


Bid Me Do Anything for Thee

by Ravenclawsome



Category: Nothing Much to Do
Genre: Drabble, F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-06
Updated: 2016-02-08
Packaged: 2018-03-16 11:12:18
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 42
Words: 40,646
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3486062
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ravenclawsome/pseuds/Ravenclawsome
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>All the stories I write from prompts I get on tumblr. If you've got one you want to see, feel free to send me an ask!<br/>jesuisdansserdaigle.tumblr.com/ask</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Onesies and Sleepovers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For une-etoile-dansait, who requested Bea X Ben, onesies and sleepovers!

“For the last time, we are not watching  _The Dark Knight.”_

“Why not? Why wouldn’t you want to watch one of the greatest superhero films ever made?”

“Okay, Batman is not that cool,”

“Um, excuse you,” Benedick gestured down to his Batman onesie, complete with felted black cape. “I think you’re forgetting who you’re talking to.”

“Oh, are you not my weird boyfriend?” Beatrice asked in mock surprise. “You should’ve said something, how long have I been in the wrong house? I’ll see myself out.”

She started to push herself off the couch, but Ben grabbed her and pulled her back down.

“Get off me!” Beatrice laughed, prying his hands from her waist and lacing his fingers with hers.

“Not until you admit that Batman is cool! AND that giraffes are overrated.” Benedick said, still holding Beatrice down and nodding at her giraffe onesie.

“In your dreams, Ben.” Beatrice said, and she pushed her fingers into his stomach where she knew he was ticklish.

“No!” he gasped, grabbing at her hands to make her stop, but she was too quick. She jumped off the couch, poised to tickle him again. “BEA, I TRUSTED YOU.”

“Bad move,” Beatrice smiled. “Now we’re watching  _Avengers_  or nothing else, deal?”

Benedick rolled his eyes like he was making a big sacrifice, but Bea could see he was smiling.

“I  _suppose_  I could settle for  _Avengers_. I mean, It’s got Robert Downey Jr., Chris Evans, Scarlett—“

“If you say  _Yo_ hansson I’m leaving right now.”

“Okay, okay,  _Jo_ hansson,” Ben conceded. “If that’s the pronunciation that makes you feel better. Now are you going to come here, or did you still want to leave?”

Bea pretended to consider her options before grabbing the Avengers disc from the coffee table, putting it in the dvd player and pressing play. She lay back down on the couch, pulling Ben’s arm around her and snuggling close to him.

“Excellent choice,” he said, planting a kiss on her shoulder.

“I might just want to watch the movie. Maybe it had nothing to do with you.”

“Nothing  _much_  to do with me?”

“ _No_.”

“Nothing _MUCH_  to do with me?”

“I will fight you.”

“NOTHING M—“ Ben didn’t get any further before Beatrice turned around and kissed him.

“It’s nice that I have a way to shut you up now that we’re together,” she said as she pulled away, brushing her thumb against his cheek.

“I definitely prefer this to pretending to hate you,” Benedick said, and he pulled her back into the kiss.

_Avengers_  started playing quietly in the background, but neither of them were paying it any attention.

Later, after the movie had ended and the two of them were a tangled, sleepy huddle on the couch, Beatrice spoke up.

"Ben?"

"Wha… what?" Ben yawned. 

"Batman’s okay." 

"I know he- wait, what?" Benedick opened his eyes wide, staring at her with a small smile.

"Batman’s okay," Beatrice repeated. "I mean, he’s not as cool as like, Iron Man, but he’s not bad."

"Oh my god. Oh my god, the day has finally come. Don’t try to hold back your feelings Bea, admit that you love Batman." 

Beatrice glanced down at the bat symbol on Benedick’s chest.

"Yeah," she smiled. "Something like that." 


	2. PEDRAZAR! In the Library

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For myprivatelaughter, who requested PEDRAZAR! In the library.

It was 1:37 in the morning, and Pedro still hadn’t finished his essay. He’d meant to start it early this time, he really had, but between soccer practice and all his other homework, he’d let his english paper slip through the cracks. Now he was sitting in the campus library, the morning his essay was due, with two entire pages to fill up.

Pedro felt his eyes drooping, but he couldn’t trust himself to put his head down. He’d turned his last paper in two hours late because he’d nodded off in the middle of writing it. He could almost hear his friends chiding him for his poor planning skills.

“ _It’s just two pages, mate!”_ Benedick would probably say. “ _All you have to do is spout bullshit for two pages, and you’re done!”_

_“That shouldn’t be too hard for you,”_ Beatrice would probably add.

Pedro sighed. He needed better voices for his conscience. Somebody like…

Pedro’s phone buzzed, and he looked at it warily. Every bit of his brain was begging to check who had just texted him, except for the tiny productive section that wanted him to keep working. It was probably nothing, maybe he could write another paragraph, and then check his phone. That would be the responsible thing to do.

Pedro stared at the blinking cursor on his word document for a full minute before giving up and reaching for his phone.

_Balthazar: Are you still at the library?_

Pedro couldn’t help grinning. He typed back quickly.

_Me: Yeah. This paper is destroying me._

_Balthazar: You want some help?_

_Me: I feel like you being around won’t make me more productive._

_Balthazar: Yeah sure, but one of us actually read the book._

_Balthazar: And it wasn’t you._

_Me: Fair enough, but I’m not going to make you come all the way down here just to help me._

_Balthazar: I may or may not already be there._

_Me: ?_

_Balthazar: I was looking up a film score for class, they’ve got a whole bunch of them on the second floor. Anyway, where are you?_

_Me: Third floor, table in the corner. Save me from this paper._

_Balthazar: I’m on my way._

Pedro set his phone down on the table, feeling more awake than he had all evening. It was like the feeling he got before a soccer game, that really intense anticipation that energized him and made it impossible to feel sleepy. He couldn’t see the stairs from where he was sitting, but soon he heard footsteps, and then Balthazar was rounding the corner, ukulele in tow.

“Hey,” he said.

“Hi,” Pedro said, smiling up at him. “Help.”

“Course,” Balthazar said, leaning down to kiss Pedro on the cheek before taking a seat next to him. “What do you have so far?”

Pedro threw his hands in the air helplessly, and turned his laptop around so that Balthazar could see. Balthy skimmed through it, raising his eyebrows when he reached the end.

“Wow, you really do have a lot left, don’t you?” he asked. Pedro groaned, putting his head down on the desk with a disheartened thunk. Balthazar reached over and took his hand while he scrolled back up to the top of the page and began a more thorough read through. After a few minutes, Balthazar cleared his throat.

“Okay, well you’ve actually got a good start for someone who didn’t do the reading, so that’s a positive.” He smiled at Pedro, who smiled back, sleepily. “The only downside is that you have a lot of space to fill up.”

“I can’t do it,” Pedro said, running a hand through his hair agitatedly. “I honestly don’t think I can do it. I’ll just tell her I got sick, or something.”

“She’s not going to buy that.”

“Well, at least that way I might still keep some of my dignity.”

“You can finish this, Pedro. I know you can finish this,” Balthazar said, squeezing his hand. He looked so sincere, Pedro was finding it hard to concentrate on the paper. “I can help you,” Balthazar continued. “Ursula loves  _The Great Gatsby,_ we’ve had discussions about it all through high school. But I can’t write the essay for you.”

“I can’t even believe you’re here, helping me at all,” Pedro said. “If I had the choice I’d just go home and get some sleep.”

“You’re saying you wouldn’t help me if I was the one who was finishing a paper at two in the morning?”

“First off, that is not what I meant. Second, you would not want my help with a paper. I’m clearly worthless with papers.”

“Well, if you talk like that, you’re never going to get it done.”

“Ugh, fine. You’re right, actually,” Pedro said. “Okay, where do I go next?”

“I’ve got a few ideas, actually,” Balthazar said.

And so they began.

***

Pedro turned the essay in ten minutes early that morning, then slept through the rest of the lecture.

A week later, Balthazar walked up to the third floor again.

“Pedro?” he said quietly, looking around the bookcases.

“Over here!” the voice came from behind him, and Balthazar turned around to see Pedro’s beaming face close to his. Before he could say anything, Pedro was kissing him.

“What was that for?” Balthazar asked breathlessly a few seconds later.

“I got my essay back,” Pedro said. “She liked it.”

“Really?”

“Well, she said it ‘wasn’t awful,’ so that’s something.”

“I told you you could do it.”

“You’re helping me with all my papers.”


	3. Happy Birthday, Ben

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For anon, who requested Bea and Ben, celebrating Ben's first birthday since they became a couple.

_Hi, this is Beatrice. I’m not at the phone right now, but leave me your name and number I’ll get back to you as soon as I can. Thanks, talk to you soon!_

Ben hung up, looking morosely down at his phone.

It was bad enough that he couldn’t get a hold of Beatrice, he hated not talking to her even on a normal day, but the fact that she had apparently gone missing on his birthday was making it particularly frustrating.

At first, Ben just assumed she was sleeping in, or doing some work before she called him. But when the afternoon came and went without a word from her, Ben started to get confused.

He’d called everyone. Pedro, Balthazar, Hero, Meg, even Verges, just to see if anyone knew where she was. Nobody did. Hero hadn’t picked up at all, which made Ben wonder if she and Beatrice were off somewhere together. Were they traveling with Leo and Hero’s mums? But Ben had seen Bea yesterday, she would’ve mentioned something like that.

He felt like he’d walked around Auckland twice looking for her. Pedro thought he’d seen Beatrice at the football pitch, Balthazar said she was supposed to be at Meg’s house, and Meg had insisted that Beatrice was hanging out with Pedro.

Now it was almost 5pm, and Ben was begrudgingly accepting defeat. He had never imagined his birthday happening this way. Of all the things he had wanted to do, going on a mad search for his girlfriend had not been at the top of his list. It hadn’t even been  _on_  the list.

He walked up to his house slowly, rummaging through his bag to find the key. Should he be legitimately concerned at Bea’s disappearance? He’d checked her house first thing that afternoon, but nobody had answered the door. She couldn’t be avoiding him on purpose, could she? The thought made Ben’s stomach turn. He tried to think of any reason she would have to stay away from him, but he came up empty.

Things were fine yesterday. Things had been  _great_  yesterday. What had she said to him when he dropped her off at her house? Ben turned the front door handle just as Beatrice’s parting words entered his mind.

_“I’ll see you tomorrow. Right when you’re not expecting it.”_

Ben opened the door, and there she was.

And it was like a million flamingos had exploded around her.

Ben’s entire living room was covered in flamingos. Flamingo paper chains on the walls and ceiling, flamingo balloons, a small cake covered in tiny, adorable flamingos.  And Beatrice, standing proudly in the middle of it all, wearing a flamingo patterned dress.

“Surprise,” she said, trying hard not to smile and failing completely. “Happy Birthday.”

Benedick was speechless. He stared at her, unable to comprehend everything he was seeing.

“What… how did you… have you been here this whole time?” He finally said, in amazement.

“Well, not this  _whole_  time,” Beatrice said, playing absent-mindedly with the fabric of her dress. “I had to have your parents watch to see when you left the house, they let me in, and then Hero helped me set everything up while the others kept you busy. Then Meg told me when she saw you coming back so I could take the cake out of the fridge. But yes, essentially I have been here the whole time.”

She glanced around her at the decorations, biting her lip.

“I mean,” she continued, “maybe it’s a bit much, but I thought, you know. That you would like it. Well, maybe not the running around thing. I probably could’ve figured out something more fun for you to do, but um…” she trailed off, looking up at Ben and waiting for him to say something. They were both quiet for a moment. Bea looked nervous.

“Beatrice,” Benedick said, quietly. “What did I ever do to convince you to like me?”

Beatrice’s face softened, and she walked over to Ben and put her arms around his neck.

“You didn’t have to convince me,” she said, warmly. “I just like you.”

“Just because?” Ben said, smiling down at her and reaching his arms around her waist.

“Well, I actually sang a song that was more specific, maybe you’ve heard it before?”

“Oh yeah, that one song where you proclaimed your undying, everlasting, infinite love for me?”

“I mean, those aren’t the words.”

“I think I got pretty close though. You want to sing it again to remind me?”

“I am never singing that song ever again.”

“Not even on my birthday?”

“ _Especially_  not on your birthday.”

“Fair enough,” Ben said. They’d been getting slowly closer together as they bantered until their foreheads were touching, and Benedick took the opportunity to finally lean in and kiss her.

Ben had never kissed anyone else, not really. There was one girl who had pecked him on the lips when he was ten, but he didn’t count that. Even with his limited experience, he knew that kissing other people wouldn’t feel like kissing Beatrice. Nothing in the entire world could compare to what it felt like kissing Beatrice. After what might’ve been hours, or days, they broke apart.

“Beatrice,” Ben said, still out of breath. “You look absolutely majestic in that dress.”

“Shut up and eat cake with me, you dork.”


	4. Dance With Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For xxbillieshears, who requested Bea and Ben at a school dance.

“Why did I let you drag me to this again?”

“Because my many charms were too overwhelming for you to refuse?”

“No, that can’t be it.”

“Hey!”

“Kidding,” Beatrice said, kissing Ben on the cheek.

They were sitting at the edge of the dance floor, watching half their school jumping and waving their arms in time to the music. They’d made sure to place themselves close enough to the food so that they could grab handfuls of popcorn and candy bars from their chairs, and Beatrice was about to pour herself more punch when a familiar song began to play over the speakers.

_Dun, dun, dun, duh duh duh duh dun, dun._

She turned quickly to look at Ben, and saw the spark of recognition in his eyes.

_When I wake up, well I know I’m gonna be, I’m gonna be the man who wakes up next to you._

“Oh my god,” he said. “Beatrice. BEATRICE, oh my god.” He stood up like he’d been hypnotized, the music drawing him one step closer to the dance floor. He turned to smile at her, and held out his hand. “Come on, dance with me.”

“Pass,” Beatrice said, smiling up at him apologetically.

“Bea, I’m not going without you.”

“Oh come on, this is your favorite song!” Beatrice protested. “You go dance, I’ll be here.”

“Second favorite.”

“What?” Beatrice wasn’t sure she had heard him right.

“This is my second favorite song,” Ben repeated.

“That’s ridiculous!” Beatrice said. “What song on earth could you possibly like more than…”

And then it hit her. He couldn’t mean it, he couldn’t possibly like that song more than  _I’m Gonna Be_. Could he? She gaped at him, comprehension dawning in her eyes, and he beamed down at her.

“My song? You actually like  _Way To Tell You_  more than  _I’m Gonna Be_? The anthem of your people?” Beatrice asked, disbelievingly.

“Definitely,” Ben said. “Now are you coming?”

Beatrice didn’t move for a minute, looking up at him with awe. Then, slowly, she held out her hand. He took it happily, pulling her out of her chair and towards the dancing people. Before they could get there Beatrice tugged him back towards her, kissing him deeply.

“You are such a sap,” she laughed, squeezing his hand tightly.

“And you’re amazing. Come on!”

And they disappeared into the dancing crowd.


	5. Flamingo Physics

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For anon, who requested Bea tutoring Ben for a big physics exam.

“Bea, you know how we agreed that if the zombie apocalypse comes, and I get bitten, you’ll be the one to shoot me in the head?”

“Yeah, obviously.”

“How does that rule apply to physics tests?”

“It doesn’t.”

“Come on Bea, I can’t take this anymore,” Ben groaned, slumping over in defeat and resting his head on the kitchen table. “My entire body is rejecting the concept of physics.”

“Shouldn’t you be floating in the air then, or something?” Bea asked, scribbling an equation in her notebook. “You know, if your body is rejecting gravity, A major element of physics?”

“I’m serious Beatrice, I can’t do this.”

“Look, you’re making it harder than it is,” Beatrice said, putting a hand on his shoulder and pulling him gently upright. “See, it’s all equations, really. You just have to know where to put in the variables.” She looked at Ben hopefully, but his expression told her he was still completely lost.

“Okay, forget that,” she said, flipping to a blank page in her notebook and scooting closer to Benedick so he could see what she was doing. “So a car starts from a resting position, then accelerates uniformly for 7.68 seconds over 125 meters. How fast is it accelerating?” Ben stared at the page blankly. “Do you know what equation we should use, or…” Beatrice trailed off.

“I’m sorry, Bea, but I don’t think this is going to help me.” Ben said, gloomily. “I’m doomed to repeat my final year of high school because I couldn’t pass one stupid physics test.”

“Not gonna happen,” Bea said, firmly. “What part of it is giving you so much trouble?”

“I don’t know, I can’t see it,” Ben sighed. “I can’t wrap my head around what they’re asking me to find out.”

“Huh,” Beatrice said, an idea forming in her mind. “Okay, let’s change that.”

“What?” Benedick asked, but Beatrice had already started scribbling in her notebook.

“What about this,” Beatrice said, after a second. “A flamingo starts from a resting position.” She sketched a small, vaguely flamingo-shaped bird in the middle of her paper. “Then he accelerates for 7.68 seconds over 125 meters.” She drew arrows and numbers around the flamingo to indicate direction. “What we need to find out is how fast he was going, and so we use this formula.” She wrote it down under her flamingo shaped scribble, and underlined it three times. “Does that help?”

Ben stared at the paper, and for the first time in the last hour, Beatrice saw him smile.

“You know what?” he said, brightly. “That actually does.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Ben said, taking her hand in his and kissing it lightly. “Although I have a feeling that flamingo is accelerating way too fast for a bird of its size.”

“I bet if it hit your car,  _you’d_  be the one in trouble.”

“You’re blowing my mind, Beatrice. That is way too much to think about for a Sunday.”

***

Benedick ran up to her the day they got their tests back, a huge grin spread across his face.

“I passed!” he said, hugging her and spinning her around in a circle. Beatrice laughed, hugging him back tightly. After a few seconds, he set her down, shaking his head dizzily.

“I knew you would,” Beatrice said, “and I’m always right, so really you didn’t have anything to worry about.”

“Wait until you see my test,” Benedick said, smiling mischievously and pulling some folded papers from his back pocket. “Here.” He pushed them into her hands, and she unfolded them with only the slightest hesitation.

The pages were almost completely covered in drawings. Every available white space had been taken up by a host of tiny arrows, numbers, and flamingos.

“You didn’t,” Beatrice whispered, flipping through the pages. “Oh my god, for every problem?”

“I did indeed,” Benedick said proudly. “Mrs. Evans said she didn’t know how I’d done it, but she didn’t care as long as I got the right answers. Well, like 75% of the right answers.”

“You amaze me,” Beatrice said, still staring at the test like she couldn’t believe it was real. “I’m keeping these.”

“Fair enough,” Benedick said, smiling at her. “Seeing as I couldn’t have done it without you.”


	6. Moving In

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For anon, who requested Bea and Ben deciding to move in together.

Beatrice had barely crossed the threshold of Benedick’s building before she realized she’d forgotten to bring the tickets.

“I’m such an idiot,” she said, curled up on Ben’s sofa with her head in her hands. “One thing to remember, and I forgot it.”

“Bea, it’s fine,” Benedick said, walking into the room with two cups of tea and setting one down on the coffee table next to her. “Balthy’s concert isn’t starting for another hour, and his people know us. We can still go.”

“But it’s not fine!” Bea argued as Ben sat down, putting an arm around her shoulders. “I hate forgetting stuff like this. Remember when I accidentally left my computer here the night before my presentation for work? Or when I left my keys here, and I didn’t notice until I got all the way home? God, I swear it’s the longest 20 minute ride ever to travel between our flats.”

“It’s definitely not ideal,” Benedick said, taking a sip of his tea.

“I just wish…” Beatrice began, but she stopped herself.

“What?” Benedick asked.

“Nothing. Don’t worry about it.”

Benedick gave her a look, then took a long look around his flat.

“You know, I heard there’s supposed to be a ghost in your building.” He said, seriously.

“What? There is not.”

“There is so! It’s this gnarled, crazy old woman who goes around stealing people’s socks and knocking things over.”

“And then what, she murders people?” Beatrice asked, unimpressed.

“Nah, she just makes them move out.” Benedick said, casually.

Beatrice turned her head slowly to stare at him.

“Makes them move out?” She asked, wondering if he was getting at what she thought he was getting at.

“Yep. People just realize that they’d have a much better time living somewhere else. Somewhere without a ghost. And with more…” Benedick glanced around the room. “More tea. And living, non-ghostly company.”

“Are you… are you serious?” Beatrice asked.

“Of course I am!” Benedick said, “I’m dead serious. Just like the ghost in your apartment.”

“Bad. That was a bad pun.”

“But it’s a good idea.” He turned to her, and there was little anxiety in his expression. “I mean, I think it’s a good idea. You wouldn’t have to worry about forgetting your stuff at your place, you’re here all the time anyway, and I love you, so… you know. It’s a good idea.” He shifted nervously on the couch, the tea in his hands was preventing him from making his usual panicked hand gestures. “Unless you think it’s a bad idea, in which case—“

“Benedick. Ben. Stop with your talking,” Beatrice interrupted, putting her hand over his mouth and turning his face towards her. He was relieved to see that she was smiling. “Of course I’ll move in with you.”

“You will?”

“Yes!” Beatrice said, rolling her eyes. Benedick looked ridiculously excited, and he set his tea down and leaned forward to kiss her. Beatrice responded enthusiastically, pushing Ben down onto the couch.

After their impromptu make-out session, Beatrice lay snuggled between the couch and Ben, already planning the move in her head.

“You know I’m really just doing it because of the ghost,” she muttered.

“Makes sense,” Benedick said. “I definitely wouldn’t want to live in a ghost flat. Unless I could join the ghostbusters, that would make things interesting.”

“So if your life were a movie, would it be  _Ghostbusters_?”

“Well, I would want it to be  _Ghostbusters_ , but it would probably end up being some kind of musical.”

Beatrice’s eyes, which had been slowly drifting closed, shot open.

“Oh my god. Shit.”

“What?” Benedick asked. “I don’t think it would be  _that_  bad to live in a musical.”

“No, Ben, Balthazar’s concert.  _We forgot about the concert.”_

“Oooh, crap,” Ben said, extracting his arm from around Beatrice and checking his watch. “We’ve got fifteen minutes. You want to try and make it?”

“Definitely,” Beatrice said, sitting up and brushing her fingers through her hair. “So, we catch a cab to the venue, and then you charm the bouncers into letting us in?”

“I could very well do that, but maybe we should just text Pedro to meet us.”

“Good point,” Beatrice checked her dress in the mirror, making sure it didn’t look too rumpled. “Hey, make sure you’re super nice to everybody tonight.”

“Why?” Ben asked, grabbing his wallet off the counter. 

“If they feel like they owe us favors, they’ll help me move.”

“I like the way your mind works.”


	7. Meeting Ben's Parents

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For anon, who requested Bea formally meeting Ben's parents for the first time since they started dating.

“So apparently, my mum thinks you’re avoiding her,” Benedick said one afternoon, a few days after Bea’s last video had gone up on youtube. 

“That’s insane,” Beatrice said, scribing the next day’s homework on her hand. “Why would I avoid your mum?”

“I don’t know. I mean, you do tend to leave my house whenever she’s supposed to show up.”

“I do not!” Beatrice said, crossing a “t” with unnecessary force. “I’m sure your parents are absolutely lovely people. We’d probably get on really well.” 

“Well, that’s definitely good to know,” Ben said, leaning back in his chair, “because they want you to come over for dinner tonight.”

Beatrice dropped her pen. 

***

She was a block away from Ben’s house when she stopped walking and pulled her phone out of her bag. 

“Hey, Bea, are you coming?”

“Yeah. I mean… yes, I’m coming. I’m almost there, I just wanted to talk to you.”

“Well, I’m flattered you would be so impatient to hear my voice that you would call me minutes from my house, but I feel like there’s something you’re not telling me.”

“Uh huh,” Beatrice said, hugging her free arm around her stomach and shivering slightly. “Your mum was right. I was avoiding her.” 

“I knew it!” Benedick said, sounding far too pleased with himself. “My dad too?”

“Yeah, your dad too.” 

“Why?” Benedick asked. Beatrice could imagine him pacing circles around his room as he spoke. “They like bad jokes and spaghetti, they’ll love you.” 

“Maybe,” Beatrice sighed. “I just don’t like making first impressions.”

“Bea, not to nitpick, but they’ve met you before.” 

“Four years ago!” She protested. “And back then, I wasn’t dating their only son.” 

“The fact that you agreed to date me makes you exponentially more cool in their eyes.” 

“What if they just remember me as a crazy fourteen year old?”

“Listen, they’re going to remember you as a person who skips out on dinner invitations if you don’t get here soon.” 

Beatrice took a deep breath, then let it out slowly. 

“Fine,” she said. “You’re right. I’ll be there in a minute.”

“Brilliant. Love you.” 

“Love you too. Bye.” Beatrice hung up, stuffing the phone back into her bag. Why did he have to be right? That was never a good sign. 

She started walking again, and sooner than she would’ve liked she arrived at Ben’s house. She’d barely stepped up to the door when it opened, revealing a smiling man in a chef’s apron. 

“Beatrice!” Benedick’s dad said, enthusiastically. “Come in, come in! Ben!” He called back into the house. “Beatrice is here!” 

“I know, dad!” Benedick said, his voice muffled through the walls of the house. 

“Hello Beatrice!” said Benedick’s mum, walking into the entryway with a smile and touching Ben’s dad gently on the arm. “Darling, your potatoes are going to burn.” 

“Right, thanks dear,” he said, turning quickly in the direction of the kitchen. “Be right back, Beatrice. Make yourself at home!” 

Benedick entered just as his dad was leaving, narrowly avoiding a collision.

“You made it!” He grinned, leaning in to kiss her on the cheek. “Beatrice, this is my mum. Mum, this is Beatrice. 

“It’s nice to see you,” Beatrice said, feeling slightly more confident now than Ben’s hand was intertwined with hers.

“Oh, the pleasure is all ours,” Ben’s mum smiled, and she looked so much like Benedick when she did that it was uncanny. “Any young woman who writes a song about our son is welcome in this house.” 

Beatrice grinned, feeling her face go red. 

“Wow, are there a lot of girls who write you songs, Ben? I had no idea.” she said, nudging his shoulder with hers.

“Weirdly enough, it’s just been you so far.” Ben said, nudging her back. 

“Dear?” Benedick’s dad’s voice came from the kitchen. “Could you give me a hand?”

“I’ll be right back,” Benedick’s mum said, rolling her eyes bemusedly. “If he drops the potatoes like he did last time, we’re going out to eat.” 

“See?” Benedick said once his mum had left the room. “They love you. Why wouldn’t they?” 

“I’m not going to tell you you’re right again. Not twice in one night.” Beatrice said.

“Even if I’m extra right this time?”

“No.” 

Suddenly, there was a loud clatter from the kitchen that made the two of them jump. 

“Come on!” Ben’s dad said. His mom started laughing, and it was so similar to Benedick’s laugh that Beatrice couldn’t help giggling along with her. 

“How do you feel about Chinese food, love?” Benedick asked, shaking his head at his parents continued laughter from the kitchen. Beatrice smiled up at him. If this was what his family was like, she thought she could probably get used to it.


	8. I Bought You Chicken

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For xxbillieshears, who challenged me to work "I bought you chicken" into a fic.

There were a lot of things Beatrice didn’t like. Traffic, ignorant people, crummy weather, the list in her head was a long one. Not to say that she wasn’t a happy person, there were plenty of things in the world that she liked very much, but occasionally the bad stuff outweighed the good stuff. 

So not even being with the best thing on her list, (Benedick), could make her any happier about being in the worst place in the entire world: the airport. 

God, she hated the airport. 

From the second she stepped through the sliding doors, everything about it made her grumpy. Waiting in long lines, her shoulders aching from her computer bag, it was a miracle she got through customs without strangling a security agent. 

Beatrice wasn’t even supposed to be flying anywhere today. Her boss had called her out of the blue the day before, practically forcing the stupid business trip on her. 

“A week?” she’d said in disbelief. “Jan, I can’t just drop everything and go to New York for a week. I’ve got plans, I’m four months pregnant!”

“Beatrice, you’re the best we’ve got,” Jan had said, her exasperation evident, “but you’re flying to New York tomorrow or you can forget about showing up for work next week.” 

After her boss hung up Beatrice had chucked her phone across the room, narrowly missing Ben.

He’d insisted on coming with her, after she’d ranted to him for ten minutes about how ridiculous her job was. 

_“Bea, I’m coming.”_

_“It’s going to be so boring.”_

_“What if the baby comes?”_

_“I can guarantee that’s not going to happen.”_

_“I don’t know, we probably shouldn’t risk it.”_

She was glad to have him there, she really was, but it definitely didn’t help that he liked airports. Not just tolerated them, _liked_ them. Something about the “adventure, the thought that you could go anywhere in the world from that one building.” His words. 

So while Beatrice sulked in a chair by the arrival gate, Benedick was people watching. 

“Okay Bea, I’m about 80% sure that woman is a hired assassin,” he said, nodding his head at a woman in a long, black coat. “Probably Russian, well trained, and out to murder someone at this exact airport. Someone like…” He scanned their surroundings, and then his eyes widened dramatically. “Oh my god, she’s after me. My outrageous gambling debts have come back to haunt me!” 

He grinned over at Beatrice, but she remained stone-faced. 

“Come on, Bea, it’s not that bad here,” he said. 

“Really?” Beatrice said, turning on him. “I had to get up at six in the morning today, my back is killing me, my boss is a nightmare, and I’m stuck in an airport for another hour waiting for my stupid flight to get here. AND—“ she added, crossing her arms, “I don’t have any chicken.” 

“…Chicken?” Ben asked, looking confused. 

“Yeah, chicken. I’m hungry.”

“But, chicken? It’s eight in the morning.”

“I’m pregnant! You think I have any control over this?” Beatrice slumped back in her chair, covering her face with her hands.

“Hey, Bea,” Benedick said, putting his hand on her shoulder. “Everything’s gonna be fine, okay?” 

Beatrice groaned. 

“I’ll be right back,” Ben continued, kissing the top of her head. “Don’t go anywhere.” 

Beatrice listened to him walk away, her mood getting worse already. Being at an airport was bad, but being there alone was hell. She felt the baby kick gently, as if to remind her she wasn’t _completely_ alone. 

“Oh, don’t start with me,” she muttered. “You’re not making this any easier.” 

Her phone buzzed. It was Jan. _Ugh._ Beatrice answered the phone with as much vindictiveness as she could put into tapping a touchscreen.

“This is Beatrice Duke,” she said. “Hi Jan. Yes, I’m at the airport. Well, it’s running a little late, but it should be here in an hour or so. Oh… no I hadn’t thought about that. We were just going to call a cab.”

Someone tapped her on the shoulder. 

“Beatrice, hey, you’ll never guess what I—“

Beatrice turned to face Ben, giving him her best “can’t you see I’m on the phone” look. 

“What was that, Jan?” Beatrice said. “No, I was listening, it’s just… yes, I understand. But I think we’ll definitely make it to the hotel with enough time to check in. Yes, I’m sure.”

Ben tried to hand her something, but she waved him off. Couldn’t he see she was talking to her boss?

“Okay, well I’ll let you know when I get there. Sure. Okay, thanks Jan. Bye.” Beatrice hung up, then rounded on Benedick. 

“What?” she demanded. “What could possibly be so important that you have to talk to me while I’m on the phone? I would really love to know, Ben, truly.” 

Anyone else might've gone running, but Ben had known Beatrice too long for that. Instead, he took a tentative step towards her and held out a styrofoam box.

“What is that?” She asked. 

“I bought you chicken,” he answered, simply.

“You… you did?”

“Yeah,” Benedick said. “I mean, I can’t promise you it’ll be good, but it’s definitely chicken. And just in case you were joking about the chicken, I got you tea as well.” He set the steaming paper cup down on her armrest, and pushed the box into her hands. Beatrice popped it open to see four, gloriously large pieces of chicken inside. She hadn’t realized exactly how hungry she was until she saw the food in front of her. 

“Oh my god, Ben, I’m so sorry,” she said, setting the chicken down and wrapping her arms around her husband. 

“It’s fine,” he replied. “I know how much you hate airports, I figured you’d have at least one mental breakdown. Maybe two. 

“Oh yeah? When’s the next one coming?”

“Probably when we find out how bad the movie selection is on the plane.”

“Ugh.” 

Beatrice pulled back from the hug and kissed him, and for a few seconds the airport didn’t seem quite so awful. 

“Hey, you want to share this chicken with me?” She asked, leaning back from the kiss. “There’s kind of a lot in that box.” 

“Thanks,” Ben said, smiling, “but I think I might actually go find some normal breakfast food.”

“Loser.” 


	9. A Way To Tell Him

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For anon, who requested Bea asking Balthazar for help writing her song for Ben.

Balthazar hadn’t known who to expect when he opened the door, but Beatrice wouldn’t have been his first guess. 

“Hey,” she said, looking anxious. 

“Hey,” Balthazar replied, “are you okay?” 

“Uh, no, not really. Can I come in?” Beatrice looked over her shoulder like she was worried someone might see her. 

“Yeah, sure.” Balthazar stepped aside and let her past him. “Do you want to sit down?”

“No, that’s fine,” Beatrice said. She was rocking back on her heels, and there was a notebook clutched tightly in her hands. 

“What’s going on?” Balthazar asked, his mind jumping to the worst possible conclusions. “Is it something with Hero, is she okay?”

“Oh no, she’s fine. I mean-“ Beatrice frowned, backtracking quickly. “She’s not fine, obviously. No, um, I need your help with something else.”

“Okay, what can I do?” 

“See… okay, the thing is,” Beatrice bit her lip. “Promise you won’t laugh at me?”

“Yeah, of course.” 

“And promise you won’t tell anyone what I’m about to tell you?”

“I promise,” Balthazar said, wondering more with each minute what she could possibly have to ask him. 

“Okay. Oooookay,” Beatrice said, taking a deep breath. “So here’s the deal… I think I wrote a song.” 

Balthazar stared at her, his mind refusing to comprehend what his ears had just heard. 

“You… _think_ you wrote a song?” He asked, finally. 

“I mean, I don’t know what else to call it,” Beatrice said, flipping open her notebook and showing him the pages. They were covered in lines of writing, with several words erased or crossed out all together. “A poem, I guess? But poems are basically just songs without music anyway, right?”

“You actually wrote a song,” Balthazar said, taking the notebook from her hands. A small smile spread across his face as he skimmed the words. “For Ben?” 

Beatrice opened her mouth like she was going to deny it, but apparently the look on his face told her not to bother. 

“It was an accident,” she mumbled feebly. 

“How did you accidentally write this? These are good lyrics,” Balthazar said, trying to decipher her messy handwriting. Beatrice sighed, folding her arms and continuing to rock back on her heels. 

“I don’t know. I’ve been writing in that notebook ever since Hero’s party, it helps to have it around when there’s nobody else to rant to. But today some things happened, and I just… wrote it.”

Balthazar could barely believe his eyes. Benedick’s song for Beatrice was still stuck in his head, and already she wanted to record one too! They really were well suited for each other. 

“So you know about him. About how he… feels?” Beatrice asked, tentatively. 

“Yeah,” Balthazar shrugged. “It’s not that hard to see, honestly.” 

“I know. I think maybe that’s why I wrote it.” 

“What do you mean?” Balthazar asked, looking up from her lyrics. They weren’t anything like Ben’s, at least in their tone, but the feelings behind the words were exactly the same. 

Beatrice sighed, glancing up at the ceiling. 

“You don’t have to tell me anything,” Balthazar said quickly. “If it’s personal, I can just—“

“No, no I think this is my problem,” Beatrice said, quickly. “You said it yourself, Ben’s made it clear how he feels. I guess that just doesn’t come as easily for me.” 

“Well, maybe not out loud,” Balthazar said, holding up the notebook, “but this is great, Beatrice.” She smiled, nervously. 

“I feel the same way, you know. About him. I just… I need a different way to tell him.” 

Balthazar smiled back at her, grabbing his ukulele off the table in the entryway. 

“Let’s get started.” 


	10. Epic Love Story

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For anon, who requested Beatrice overhearing Benedick talking to their kids about their "epic love story."

It was almost 11PM when Beatrice finally made it home from work. She dragged herself into the kitchen, dumping her heavy bag on the table and checking the fridge, hopefully. Sure enough, there on the top shelf was a bowl of curry covered in plastic wrap, just for her. Beatrice heard her stomach rumble as she took the food out of the fridge and put it in the microwave; it was going to be a big step up from the sandwich she’d barely had time to eat at work. 

Beatrice sighed, leaning up against the counter and trying to take some weight off her feet. It’d been a long day.

Her shoulder bumped up against the fridge, knocking into some loose magnets and sending pictures spiraling to the ground. Beatrice knelt to pick them up, double checking to make sure they hadn’t fallen into anything weird on the floor. It wasn’t that her house was a complete mess, it was just hard to know what would end up on the floor when you had two four year olds running around.

She put the pictures back on the fridge, one by one. There was Ginny at her football game, Beatrice was pretty sure she was staying at a friend’s house tonight. A picture of the twins fighting with sticks in the backyard, that had been a fun trip to the hospital. Then there was the one Hero had taken of all five of them at the park; Beatrice being attacked by James and Cecilia while Imogen chased Benedick around the swing set.

Speaking of, where was he? Normally he stayed up at least until she got home, but she’d been so tired she hadn’t noticed his absence until just now.

The microwave beeped, making her jump. She got a paper towel out of the cupboard and used it to grab the steaming bowl of curry, pulling a spoon out of the drawer on her way towards the stairs. She started going up them slowly, taking care not to spill her food as she stirred it.

But as she got closer to the top of the stairs, she began to hear voices. Well, primarily just the one voice.

“So there we were, and by this point of course your mum was completely in love with me,” came Benedick’s voice from the room at the far end of the hall, and Beatrice couldn’t help rolling her eyes. What was he doing up with them? It was hours past their bedtime, and who told him he could recount the “how we met” story without her?

“And you liked her too?” Cecilia’s small voice asked.

“Oh, definitely. We both denied it to everyone, but they didn’t believe us.”

Beatrice tiptoed over to the door, which was only open a tiny bit, and sat down outside the room to listen. The last time she’d heard Benedick tell the story, she’d been there to correct him when he got facts wrong or exaggerated. She was curious to know exactly how much he made up when she wasn’t there to hear.

“Anyway, I was hanging out in her bathtub—“

“You said no hanging out in the bathtub!” James cried, indignantly. It was true, they’d had to ban bathtub antics after Cecilia got a nasty cut from hitting her head on the faucet.

“You’re right buddy, but this was a long time before the great Month-Of-Emergency-Department-Visits,” Benedick said, and Beatrice nearly choked on her curry trying to hold back laughter. In retrospect, the great Month-Of-Emergency-Department-Visits was hilarious to her, even though it had been incredibly stressful at the time. The only positive thing about going to the hospital five times in four weeks was that she and Benedick got really good at driving there under stress.

“What happened then?” Cecilia pressed. It was by far her favorite question. She always tried to stall her inevitable bedtime by asking Beatrice countless variations of it.

_“Mum what are we doing tomorrow?”_

_“I’m going to work.”_

_“And what then?”_

_“Your dad’s going to take you to see your auntie Hero.”_

_“And what happens then?”_

_“I don’t know, Cecilia.”_

_“But what happens after that?”_

It was never ending.

“Well, when she found me in her bathtub, she told me to come downstairs and eat pizza.” Benedick continued. “She came all the way upstairs to tell me there was pizza, when she could’ve easily made someone else do it. It just shows you how madly in love with me she was, she chose me over the best food ever.”

Beatrice couldn’t take it anymore.

“For the last time, Ben,” she said, pushing the door open with her foot, “I was  _forced_ to tell you about the pizza.”

“MUM!” Her two four year olds practically tumbled off their beds and over one another to reach her, tackling her with a big hug. Beatrice hugged them back, silently thankful that she’d put the curry bowl down before revealing herself.

“What are you two troublemakers doing up?” She asked. “Who made you do this?”

“DAD DID IT,” James shouted.

“HE MADE US,” Cecilia agreed.

“Untrue! You both asked for a bedtime story and you know it,” Benedick said, pulling the twins off of Beatrice and standing up, holding one under each arm. “Hi!” he said cheerfully to her. “Did you find your dinner?”

“LET ME DOWN,” Cecilia giggled, flailing her arms and legs around.

“NO, ME,” James said

“I did find it, thanks,” Beatrice smiled, leaning in to kiss Ben before grabbing the squirming Cecilia and setting her down on her bed.

“Then what?” Cecilia asked.

“Then I came upstairs and you went to bed, sleepy.”

“Then what happened?”

“I think we’re all caught up there. Good night Cecilia,” Beatrice said, tucking her daughter in and giving her a kiss on the forehead.

“But what about the story?” James said, as Beatrice went over to kiss him goodnight as well.

“Tomorrow, darling,” Beatrice said, flicking off the main lamp as Ben went around the room plugging in night lights. “Tomorrow you can hear the rest of the story, and your mum will be there to make sure it gets told right.”

She and Benedick were walking out of the room and shutting the door when a small voice called out.

“And then what?”

“Sleep, Cecilia.”


	11. Knitting

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For xxbillieshears, who requested Beatrice discovering that Ben has a secret hobby - knitting.

They were halfway through their study session when the doorbell rang. 

“That’s the pizza,” Beatrice said, her eyes shooting up from her textbook and locking with Benedick’s. 

“Not it!” They shouted in unison. 

“Oh come on, Ben,” Beatrice said, chucking her pencil at him. “It’s your house, get the pizza.” 

“Absolutely not, you chose the toppings.”

“We _agreed_ on all the toppings, I just made the call!”

“Exactly! I don’t sound anything like you, the pizza guy will think I’m trying to steal someone else's food.”

“Benedick!” Called a woman’s voice from somewhere else in the house. “Are you coming for this pizza, or should I tell him to take it back?”

“HA,” Beatrice said, pushing Ben off the bed. “Your mum understands.” 

“Whatever,” Benedick said, shaking his head but grinning all the same. “I get the first piece.”

“In your dreams.” Beatrice laughed. 

Once Ben had left the room, Beatrice tried to refocus on her homework. She wrinkled her nose down at the english paper she was outlining in her notebook; why was it so hard to come up with a good thesis statement about _Twelfth Night_? She’d liked it fine, but it hadn’t really grabbed her on the first read through. Maybe she could do something about gender stereotyping? Beatrice reached behind her ear for her pencil. 

It wasn’t there. 

Right. Boyfriend, not getting the pizza, pencil got thrown somewhere. She groaned, rolling off the bed begrudgingly to look for it. 

It wasn’t on the bed, and she couldn’t see it on the floor, but it had to be hiding somewhere. Beatrice got down on her hands and knees, squinting through the dark at the mess of clothes and other crap that had been shoved under Ben’s bed.  There was a candy wrapper, a few books, more socks than were probably in his closet, some yarn, and— yes! Beatrice reached forward victoriously, grabbing her pencil out from the chaos. 

As she held it up to make sure it was actually hers, something flickered its way across her brain. Had there been… wait. Had she seen yarn under there?

_What?_

Beatrice ducked under the bed again, double checking to make sure her mind wasn’t screwing with her. Sure enough, her eyes quickly found the ball of yarn. Actually, there were _several_ balls of yarn. 

“I snagged the first piece on the way back from the door, so the joke’s on…” Beatrice heard Benedick trail off as he saw her. “What are you doing?”

She extracted herself awkwardly from under the bed, looking up to see Ben’s confused face staring back at her. 

“My pencil rolled under there,” she explained. “Hey, question for you, why is there so much yarn under your bed?” 

Benedick froze. His eyes were wide, and his mouth hung open like all language had failed him. 

“Uuuuuuhhh, what yarn?” Benedick asked, his voice several octaves above normal.

“Try again,” Beatrice smirked. “Yarn. Bed. Why?” 

“Hey, I’ve got a great idea,” Benedick said, practically dropping the pizza box on Beatrice’s head in his hurry to hand it to her. “Let’s eat pizza!”

“Oh my god, you are only increasing my curiosity by trying to cover this up,” Beatrice said, setting the pizza box down and sticking her hand back under the bed. She felt something soft and grabbed at it, pulling out a big ball of brown yarn. “Look! Physical proof!” Beatrice said, throwing the yarn at Benedick. He caught it inches in front of his face. 

“Careful!” he said, kneeling down next to her and grabbing her hands so she couldn’t pull out any more yarn. “Okay, you win, I’ll tell you.” 

“I cannot even begin to imagine what you’re going to say,” Beatrice smirked. 

“Just, like, you might think it’s lame. It is kind of lame.” 

“What, are you knitting hats in your spare time?” Beatrice joked. Benedick looked awkwardly at the floor. 

“Wait… are you?” Beatrice asked. Ben didn’t say anything, but nodded his head solemnly. “That’s what you’re trying to hide from me, that you know how to knit hats? Oh my god…” She couldn’t help laughing, it was such a weird thing to try and cover up.

“Hey, don’t laugh at me! This is why I don’t tell you things,” Benedick said, loosening his grip on her wrists and instead lacing his fingers through hers. 

“Oh come on, you tell me everything.”  


“Clearly there is still mystery in our relationship. You discovered my deepest darkest secret, you have to tell me yours now.” 

“What? Not a chance.” Beatrice scoffed. 

“I think it’s that deep down, you really love flamingos.”

“That is blatantly untrue.”

“Exhibit A!” Benedick said, dramatically. “You are wearing a flamingo necklace.” Beatrice rolled her eyes.

“Okay, but I’m not wearing it because I love _flamingos_.”

“Oh really?” Benedick said, disbelievingly. 

“Really. My stupid heart decided to fall for some weirdo who knits hats like an old lady.” 

“Hey, that’s unfair. I make other things. I’m making a Tom Baker scarf!” 

“WHAT?” Beatrice shouted, incredulous. “Oh my god, you can do that?” 

“Easily,” Benedick grinned. 

“You’re making me one.” Beatrice said. “Girlfriend request, non-negotiable.” 

“What if I just made a really long one, and we could share it?”

“How about no.” 

 


	12. A Nice Ring To It

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For anon, who requested Bea and Ben telling the the gang that they're getting married.

"Meg!”

“Megnut!”

“Nutmeg!”

“Margaret!”

“Oh my god, what?” Meg said, turning away from the table of food to see Beatrice and Benedick walking towards her through the crowd, grinning. “When did you guys get here?”

“Just now, actually!” Ben said, as Beatrice pulled Meg into a hug. “So the party can officially start.”

“It looks lovely, Meg, as always,” Beatrice said, gesturing around Meg’s flat with her right hand. “And that food, oh my god I’m starving.”

“It is pretty great,” Meg smiled, popping a piece of shrimp into her mouth.

“Ooh, maybe I’ll-“

“We actually had a question for you,” Benedick said, touching Beatrice gently on the shoulder to steer her away from the food. “Right, Bea?”

“Yes! Absolutely yes, you’re right,” she beamed up at him, excitedly.

“Okay,” Ben cleared his throat. “Meg, here is our question for you.”

“Do you think,” Beatrice said, seriously, “that I should change my name?”

Meg blinked.

“What, your first name? No, absolutely not!” She said, unsure weather to take the two of them seriously.

“Are you completely sure about that?” Beatrice pressed. “Because I’ve been thinking ‘Mrs. Beatrice Duke’ has a nice ring to it.”

Beatrice and Benedick both stared at her expectantly, and when she didn’t immediately process what had been said, Bea brought her left hand slowly out of her jacket pocket.

“A nice  _ring_ to it, Meg.” She said, pointing to the golden band around her ring finger.

Meg stared at Bea’s hand for a few seconds, her eyes widening and her mouth falling open, before a high pitched squeal found it’s way up from her vocal chords.

“Beatrice!  _Beatrice_ oh my god.” Some of Meg’s guests were looking over at her confusedly, but she didn’t care. “What is even- when did this happen?”

“Like an hour ago,” Benedick said, looking like Christmas had come early.

“Not even. Forty five minutes,” Beatrice countered.

“It was insane, it involved a mango, several strings of lights, two cakes, I seem to remember you throwing a book at my head?” Benedick said, glancing down at Beatrice.

“I wish I could say he was joking.”

“Oh my god, you two!” Meg pulled them both into a hug. “I’m so happy for you, don’t get me wrong, but whatever happened to ‘not needing a piece of paper to tell you who you loved?’”

“Well, our mums told us that if we loved  _them_ , we would get the piece of paper.” Benedick explained with a smirk. “Only child’s curse, mums want to go to weddings and they’ve each just got one kid.”

“Plus, they said they’d help pay for it,” Beatrice added.

“You can’t put a price on love, Bea.”

“You should write cards. Really awful romance cards.”

“Guys! Focus!” Meg said. “You’re getting married! This is a big day for Team Love Gods!”

“Speaking of, we’ve got to go find more of them. Tell them the news,” Benedick said.

“If anyone asks, you haven’t seen us all evening, and you don’t know anything about our wedding,” Beatrice said, shoving her left hand back in her pocket.

“Why aren’t you just telling everyone at once?” Meg asked. Beatrice and Benedick exchanged a mischievous look, and something clicked in Meg’s head.

“Oh my god,” she said, “please tell me you’re not going around to everyone individually so you can make that ‘ring’ joke.”

“I really wish I could tell you that, Meg,” Beatrice said. “I really wish I could.”

“Hey, this was your idea, remember,” Benedick said, putting an arm around Bea’s waist. “ _I_ remember, we were walking over from the car, and you said ‘wouldn’t it be funny if-’”

“Okay, so it was my idea. It was a brilliant idea.”

“You two are insane,” Meg smiled, “and I’m so happy for you I think I might explode!”

“Don’t explode! You’ll draw attention to us!” Beatrice said.

“We’re trying to sneak around, like ninjas.”

“Like engaged ninjas.”

“Just go tell everyone already!” Meg laughed, making a shooing motion with her hand. Beatrice blew her a kiss before walking back into the crowd with Ben, and they became lost among all the people.

Meg shook her head. She couldn’t believe they were finally getting married. Their wedding was going to be fantastic, she was already picking out what to wear in her head.

“Hey, Pedro!” She heard, quietly through the noise of the party. “We’ve got a question for you!”

Meg rolled her eyes up to the ceiling. All in all, the party was turning out to be more exciting than she could’ve ever planned.


	13. Charlie and Imogen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For anon, who requested Bea and Ben as grandparents.

“Charlie, text them,” Imogen said, breathing heavily as she got in the car.

“You don’t want to do it? I have to drive.”

“I’m a little preoccupied, darling.” Imogen gestured towards her extremely pregnant belly.  

“We have to get to the hospital.”

“Please, it’ll take four seconds.”

“Okay, okay I’ll text them.” 

Charlie took out her phone, opened her messages and scrolled down until she found “Ginny’s Mum and Dad” in her contacts. 

_Charlie: Baby’s coming, we’re on our way to the hospital._

She had barely put the phone back in her pocket when it started buzzing feverishly. 

“You want to take this, Ginny?” Charlie said, as she put the car in reverse and began to back out of the driveway. 

“Not really,” Imogen said. “I feel like I might throw up on your phone.” 

“Wouldn’t be the first time,” Charlie smirked as she reached to answer the call.

“Hey, we agreed you’d never mention the disastrous New Years of 2045 ever again.”

“Fair enough. Hello?” Charlie answered the phone, bracing herself for the explosion.

“Charlotte! How’s she doing, what’s going on?” Beatrice’s voice came through the phone. 

“This is insane! How is this happening! Why am I more nervous about this than I was when you were pregnant?” Benedick could be heard shouting in the background.

“She’s fine, everything’s fine,” Charlie said, stopping at a red light. 

“Is dad freaking out?” Imogen asked. Charlie nodded. “Please tell him that I’m fine.” 

“I just did.”

“But specifically tell him.”

“Charlie?” Beatrice asked. “Are you still there?”

“Yeah, sorry,” Charlie returned to the call. “Imogen wants me to tell Benedick that she’s fine.”

“Ben!” Beatrice called. “Stop pacing a hole in the floor, Ginny’s going to be fine.” 

“How are you so calm about this?” Ben’s voice said, faintly.

“Because one of us has to be! Also I’ve had babies before.”

“I am well aware of that!” 

“Listen,” Charlie said, smiling slightly at her in-laws. “I’ve got to let you go, but I’ll meet you at the hospital soon, okay?” 

“Sounds good Charlie, give Imogen all our love and we’ll see you there,” Beatrice said.

“Don’t let her go, I’m still panicking!”

“Bye Charlie, good luck.”

“Bye Beatrice,” Charlie said, and she hung up.

“How did they take it?” Imogen asked. 

“Pretty well,” Charlie shrugged. “Your dad might pass out.”

“Yeah, well he’s not the only one.” Imogen sighed, glancing down at her stomach. “You’re pretty lucky, baby. Your grandparents are going to love the crap out of you.” 

“Yeah, well they’re not the only ones,” Charlie smiled. 


	14. Proposal

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For seeking-further-illumination, who requested Ben's proposal to Bea, including all the elements mentioned in the previous fic where Bea and Ben told Meg about their engagement.

 

Beatrice and Benedick were sitting on the couch, eating takeout after what had been a long and stressful day. Bea kept stabbing at her shrimp with a vigor she normally reserved for guys who hit on her in bars, or people who walked too slowly on the sidewalk.

“So my grandma called me today,” she said, spearing a particularly large shrimp with her fork. “She actually asked me how long I planned to continue  _living in sin._ ”

“Whot dihd oo fay?” Benedick asked through a mouthful of noodles.

“I don’t remember, really,” Beatrice said, rubbing her temples. “Something snarky, probably, I was running on about three hours of sleep at the time.”

“Yeah, you don’t have to stay up that late again tonight, do you?”

“Yup.”

“If you die of sleep deprivation, maybe your grandma will start to like me out of pity.”

“Nah,” Beatrice said, managing a small smile. “She’d probably say something like, ‘ _This would never have happened if you’d just gotten married, Beatrice!_ ’” Bea did her best old lady voice, shaking her finger in the air and nearly dropping her food in the process.

“I mean, I’ve heard worse reasons to get married than ‘preventing your death.’” Benedick said.

“Oh yeah, plenty,” Beatrice agreed.

They fell into a slightly uncomfortable silence.

“You’re fine not being married, right?” Benedick asked, tentatively.

“Yeah, of course.” Beatrice said.

“Because I don’t care honestly, either way,” Benedick continued, setting his empty takeout box on the table next to the couch. “I love you, and that’s basically all that matters, right?”

“Exactly,” Beatrice smiled, scooting over on the couch so that he could put his arm around her.

“Soooo, I mean, if it would make your grandparents happier… and I feel like my mom’s been hinting—“

“Woah, Ben,” Beatrice turned to stare at him. “This is about  _us_. We can’t just cave in and get married because other people want us to.”

“Isn’t that kind of what weddings are about, though?” Benedick countered. “Granted, I’ve never been in one before, but they seem like they’re more for the family than anyone else.”

“I’m not sure- what even- are you  _proposing_?” Beatrice stammered.

“No!” Benedick said quickly. “I mean, I’m not trying to spring this on you or anything, I just think it’s something we could definitely talk about.” He glanced at Beatrice nervously, like maybe he’d said something wrong, but she didn’t look mad.

“I suppose… I guess we could consider it,” she said, slowly.

“Yeah?” Benedick’s eyes widened. “You’re not just saying that, right? Because you can disagree with me on this.”

“No, I think you’re right. We should talk about it,” Beatrice yawned, rubbing her eye and setting her takeout box down on the table. “But maybe we can talk about it tomorrow? I’ve still got all this work to do.”

“No problem,” Benedick grinned, grabbing their trash from the table and walking over to the kitchen to throw it away. “Can I help with any of it?”

“Unfortunately not.”

“Well, in that case I think i might go pass out,” Benedick said, looking wistfully over at the bedroom. Bea glanced up at him, she’d almost forgotten that he had a bad day at work too.

“Okay, go do that,” Beatrice said, leaning up to kiss him. “I’ve got several emails to send.”

“Good luck,” Benedick said, squeezing her hand and starting to walk away.

“Hey, Ben?” Beatrice caught him by the fingertips, “I think it’s actually a really good idea.”

“What is?” 

“You know… getting married.” She mumbled. “I mean, it would basically be a party all about us, and we would get to eat cake, so…”

Benedick looked awestruck. 

“Does this mean I can propose to you?” he asked slowly. “Because believe me, I’ve had quite a lot of time to think about it.” 

“Oh my god,” Beatrice smiled, covering her face with her hands. “Whatever you want to do, Ben.”

“Yeah?”

“Yes,” Beatrice said. “Just, you know, not some ridiculous, stupid, proposal. Like something embarrassing where the guy is definitely trying to overcompensate for not knowing very much about his girlfriend.”

“Come on, you know me better than that,” Benedick smiled. “I would never do something that crazy.”

***

“Hey, I’m home,” Beatrice said as she returned from work the next day, her face partially obscured by _The Princess Bride_. She’d started reading it on the ride home, (she’d had to get a lift from a coworker because  _someone_  needed to use the car,) and she hadn’t been able to put it down. She’d forgotten exactly how good it was, it was definitely one of the best book-to-movie adaptations ever.

So it took her a few seconds to notice the banner.

It was suspended over the door to the kitchen, with huge colorful words painted all the way across it.

_BENEDICK’S RIDICULOUSLY STUPID AND EMBARRASSING PROPOSAL OF OVERCOMPENSATION: RIGHT THIS WAY._

“Benedick Hobbes, you  _didn’t_ ,” Beatrice groaned.

Suddenly, lights lit up all around her. There were strings of them all over the floor and the walls, pointing her straight in the direction of the kitchen.

“I am going to  _murder_  you,” Beatrice muttered, taking off her coat and throwing it into the closet.

There was really nothing else to do except walk into the kitchen.

She entered slowly, still clutching  _The Princess Bride_  in her hand. Everything looked normal, except for the lights strung all around her.

Oh, and the table standing in the middle of the room. There was a large pink table cloth draped over it, effectively obscuring what was actually on the table.

“Hello Beatrice,” Benedick’s voice came from behind her, and she jumped in alarm.

“ _Jesus,_ Ben, what the fuck?” Beatrice gasped.

“Beatrice Duke,” Benedick said in a mockingly sincere tone, pretending like he hadn’t heard her, “I have a very important question to ask you.”

“Shut this down,” Beatrice said, taking his hands in hers. “Honestly you do not have to do this.”

“I know we haven’t known each other long-“

“Eleven years!”

“But in that short time,” Ben persisted, “I’ve come to realize that I cannot fathom my life without you.”

“I’m leaving the room,” Beatrice said.

“Wait!” Benedick said, catching her hands as she tried to pull away, “don’t you want to know what’s under the table cloth?”

She opened her mouth to say that no, she absolutely fucking did not want to know, but something in his stupid face made her stop.

“Fine, Romeo,” she said. “Continue with this insane thing you’ve dragged me into.” Benedick beamed.

“Behold!” he said, walking to the table and pulling the pink cloth off it in one sweeping motion.

It wasn’t nearly as bad as Beatrice thought it might be. There were two cakes sitting there, each of them under a fancy glass cover like they had at bakeries.

“Beatrice, inside one of these cakes is a ring, representing my undying love for you,” Benedick said, his voice decidedly overdramatic. “Inside the other is a mango, representing my days as a bachelor. If we are truly meant to be, your heart will guide you to the right cake.”

“How did you even have time to do this?” Beatrice mumbled, in awe. “You get home  _an hour_  before me.”

“Took the day off,” Benedick said, cheerfully.

“I hate you.”

“You’re never going to pick the right cake with that attitude.”

“Oh my god, fine.” Beatrice stared at the cakes. They looked exactly the same. “The right one. Final answer.”

“We shall see,” Benedick said, lifting the glass cover and picking up a knife. He cut a piece of the cake with some difficulty, then dropped it onto a plate and examined it carefully.

“Ooh, I’m so sorry, but it looks like you’ve chosen the mango cake, love,” Benedick said, holding up the piece he’d cut to show her a mango slice embedded in it. “So if you’ll just dig through this other cake to find the ring, it’s small and vaguely gold in color-“

Beatrice chucked her book at his face. He dodged it just in time, letting it hit the wall with a thunk.

“YOU BAKED AN ENTIRE MANGO INTO THE CENTER OF A CAKE???” She shouted in disbelief.

“IT’S BORING WHEN YOU’RE NOT HERE, THINGS GOT OUT OF HAND!” Benedick shouted back, laughing. Beatrice could only shake her head.

“If you think for ONE second that I am going to dig through that cake for a ring-“

“You don’t have to!” Benedick said quickly, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a small box. “I thought you were just going to kill me the minute you saw the banner, I couldn’t count on you to tear apart a cake.”

Beatrice stared at the ring box, her annoyance evaporating at the sight of it.

“Where did you get that?” she asked, quietly.

“Oh, you know, I’ve had it for a while,” Benedick shrugged.

He flipped open the box and held it out to her.

“Marry me?” he asked, a small smile playing across his face.

Beatrice tried to glare at him, but something in her heart wouldn’t let her. Instead, she beamed.

“Yes,”  Beatrice said. “I will marry you, you ridiculous mango-cake-baking—“

Benedick cut her off, pulling her towards him and kissing her, deeply. Beatrice melted into it, putting her arms around his neck and holding him even closer.

“It’s not because I like you, okay?” Benedick breathed as they broke apart. “I’m just doing it to appease your aging grandmother.”

“Mmm, obviously,” Beatrice said. “So she’ll leave her porcelain bird collection to you in her will?”

“You’re messing with me. She does not have a porcelain bird collection.”

“I wish I was messing with you, then she wouldn’t have to walk me through it every time I come to visit.”

“Oh my god, that’s amazing,” Benedick said, staring off into the distance. “Is your grandmother married?”

“Ooh, sorry Ben,” Beatrice smirked, “but I’m pretty sure she doesn’t date engaged guys.”

Benedick grinned wider than she’d seen him do all week.

“Holy shit, Beatrice, we’re engaged. We just got engaged! Do we go tell people now? How do we do that?”

“Well, I think Meg’s party is starting soon,” Beatrice said, checking her watch and trying to hold in her laughter at Ben’s excitement. “You want to make an appearance?”

“Are mangos hard to cut with a cake knife?”

“I still have time to murder you. I reserve that option.”


	15. Meeting Bea's Parents

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For anon, who requested Ben meeting Bea's parents for the first time since they started dating.

“Are you nervous?”

“I’m not nervous!”

“Why are you jumping?”

“This is- I just do this now.” 

“You’re nervous.” 

They’d been standing by the baggage claim for almost an hour, waiting for Bea’s parents’ flight to arrive from Australia, and Ben was getting more anxious with every minute. 

“If they don’t get here soon, I think I might throw up,” he said, bouncing on his feet. 

“Yeah, me too,” Beatrice said, glancing around at the commuters and security guards and wrinkling her nose. “I hate airports.” 

“Airports are cool.” 

Beatrice turned her head slowly to stare at him in disbelief. 

“Who are you?” she whispered. “Do I know you at all?”

“What? It’s a basically a mall that happens to include airplanes,” Ben grinned. 

“I don’t think I can talk to you anymore.”

“Nooo, come on Bea!” Benedick said, “I need you to keep distracting me.” 

“Distract you how?”

“I don’t know, you got any good stories?”

Beatrice thought about it. 

“One time a few years ago, I told my mum about this boy in my class who wouldn’t stop flirting with me. She said that if she wasn’t a responsible adult, she would find him and punch him in the face.” 

“That story,” Benedick said, “is unhelpful on SO many levels.”

“Well, next time you should be more specific when you ask me to distract you.” Beatrice said, checking her watch. 

“More importantly, who is this mystery guy?” Benedick asked, continuing to bounce up and down like a tennis ball. “What’s his name? Is he taller than me? Is he even _English_?”

“Yes, he was a meter taller than you and built like a rugby player,” Beatrice smirked. 

“How much time do you think I’ll have to react when your mum tries to punch me?” Benedick continued. “Because let’s be honest, I’ve been flirting with you a _lot_ more than what’s-his-name ‘not Benedick’ ever did.” 

“I don’t know, she’s pretty fast,” Beatrice said. “And I think his name was Kenneth, or something.”

“Ugh, that’s a douchebag name if I ever heard one,” Ben said, making a face. “ _Kenneth._ Nobody cool was ever named _Kenneth_.”

“Oh my god, your name is _Benedick_.” Beatrice laughed. “I don’t think you get to criticize other people’s names.” 

“Oh you know what, that reminds me! I have something for you,” Benedick reached into his bag, and when he brought his hand back out it was making a rather rude gesture.

“Nice,” Beatrice rolled her eyes, grinning. “Very classy.” But then her eyes moved over his shoulder, and something in her face changed. 

“What?” Benedick asked. He started to turn around, but Beatrice grabbed his shoulder before he could. 

“Okay, don’t panic, but my parents are walking over here right now,” she said.

Benedick’s eyes got wide. 

“Oh my god,” he said, “I’m panicking Bea, what do I do?”

“Well,” she said, “for one thing, you could _stop flipping me off_.”

Benedick looked down at his hand. Sure enough, he’d completely forgotten to move it after Bea had mentioned her parents. He put his hand in his pocket quickly. 

“Shit, do you think they saw?” he asked. 

“No,” Beatrice said, after a second’s pause.

“You’re lying to me, aren’t you.” 

“Okay, deep breaths, here we go!” Beatrice turned him around, waving at her rapidly approaching parents. “Mum! Dad! Hi!”

“Beatrice!” They both set down their luggage as Beatrice strode forward and hugged them enthusiastically. Benedick couldn’t move. He didn’t know if he should go to meet them, or wait where he was, or just find a corner to curl up and die in.

“Mum, Dad, you remember Ben,” Beatrice said, taking his hand and pulling him forward gently. She tightened her fingers around his encouragingly, and somehow he felt better. 

“Hi Mr. Duke, Mrs. Duke,” Benedick smiled. “It’s great to see you.” 

 

***

 

“So you think they liked me?” Benedick asked later. He and Beatrice had snuck out of the house while her parents and the aunties were chatting, and now they were lying on the cool grass of the backyard.  

“I think they _loved_ you,” Beatrice said. “I mean, your first impression was hilariously awkward, but I think they thought it was endearing.”

“We are never talking about that time I sort of flipped off your parents ever again.”

“Oh, we are talking about that every day.” 


	16. IAGTIAH Additional Scene: Pedro at the Playground

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For pedrodonaldson, who asked for an additional scene to I Am Gone Though I Am Here, my time travel AU, in which Beatrice reaches out to Pedro.

It was impossible for Beatrice to stay inside on Friday afternoon. Looking at all the groceries Hero had brought home, the sugar and frosting and party snacks, it made Bea feel like her stomach was twisting and writhing itself into knots. As much as she had been trying to mentally prepare herself for Hero’s birthday, she had to admit she’d been pushing it aside more than dealing with it. 

And now here it was, staring her in the face like an angry lion. Or maybe a horse. A horse sized duck. 

So Beatrice left her house, and now she was walking aimlessly around her neighborhood trying to distract herself. She had her headphones plugged into her phone, but her problems were apparently too great even for “Flight of the Concords” to solve. 

As she rounded a corner into a public park, singing along quietly to “Hiphopopotamus vs Rhymenoceros”, she noticed someone sitting on the swings.

Pedro. 

Beatrice stopped walking, not quite sure what she should do. He had his back to her, so she could definitely just keep going, but something about the way he was slumped down on the swing made her pause. 

In all the drama and stress of the week, she had barely given a thought to Pedro. Pedro, who she had rejected. Pedro, who was feeling bitter and confused. 

Pedro, who was still in the closet. 

In her reality, Pedro and Balthazar had become so close since the vlogs ended that it was crazy. She had gotten used to saying their names in the same breath, PedroandBalthazar. 

But here it was just Pedro, sitting on the swings they used to play on as kids, looking like he needed someone. 

It could mess something up if she talked to him. Beatrice had tried her hardest not to meddle in anyone’s life except Ben’s, in case it backfired on her and ruined everything she was trying to do. Talking to Pedro was definitely against the rules.

But then again, she had never been great at following rules. 

“Hey Pedro,” she said, pulling out her earbuds and stowing them in her pocket. 

Pedro sat up, looking around for whoever had called his name. When he finally saw her he smiled, a little insincerely. 

“Hi Beatrice,” he said. “What are you doing here?” 

“Oh, you know,” she said, lowering herself onto the swing next to him. “Just out for a walk. You?”

“Just, ah, wanted to clear my head,” Pedro said, ruffling his hair. “It’s been a weird week.” 

“Ah, the stressful life of a student leader,” Beatrice joked, and Pedro smiled, a real smile this time. “It’s been a weird one for me too, believe me.” 

They were both quiet for a minute. Beatrice pushed herself back and forth on the swing with her foot, remembering all the summers they had spent at this park. It was the closest one to Pedro’s house, so it was where they always went when they were too little to walk anywhere on their own, much less drive. She’d climbed every single tree with low enough branches, pushed Pedro down the slide on the playground, dared Benedick to eat that jar of olives at a picnic their families had together. She missed that, the three of them running around like wild children, pranking people and making jokes and falling in love, even just a little. 

“You think life will get less weird after graduation?” Pedro asked, breaking the silence. It was an innocent question, but something about it hit Beatrice like a brick. 

“I… I don’t know, Pedro,” she sighed. “I think it’s always going to be weird. And difficult. And awful, sometimes.” 

She glanced over at his face. He was staring at the ground miserably, kicking at the dirt with his shoe. 

“But,” Beatrice continued, “sometimes the difficult things are the best, in the end. Sometimes you have to work really hard to get where you want to be. To make your life what you want it to be.” 

“Wow, you’re getting pretty deep over there, Bea,” Pedro smirked.

“I’m serious,” she said, willing Pedro to believe her. “Pedro… you have to be willing to do hard things. Things that scare you.”

Pedro was looking at her quizzically, like he was wondering how much she knew. 

“Bea, I’m not sure what you—" 

“The point is, I’m here for you,” Beatrice said, interrupting him. “You know, if you need it.” 

Pedro was still staring. He opened his mouth to say something, but he was interrupted again, this time by his ringtone. 

“Hold on,” he said, reaching into his pocket to answer his phone. “Hello? Oh, hey Ben.” 

Beatrice felt her heart jump, even at the mention of his name. God, she really was in too deep. 

“I’m at the park with Beatrice,” Pedro continued. “Yeah, Beatrice Duke, what other Beatrice do you know? Okay, calm down, I’ll be there. Give me five minutes? Great. See you then.” He hung up, sliding the phone back into his pocket. 

“I’ve gotta go meet Ben,” he said, apologetically. “I promised him we’d hang out today, and we’ve got that project to finish for history.”

“Yeah, no that’s fine,” Beatrice said quickly. “I’m sure he needs all the help he can get.” 

“Are you two ever going to lay off each other?” Pedro asked, shaking his head slightly as he stood up from the swing.

“I hope so, Pedro,” Beatrice sighed. “I really do.” 

“Alright, well I guess I’ll see you tomorrow,” Pedro said. He started to walk away, but he stopped after a few seconds and turned around. “Hey, Beatrice?” 

“Yeah?”

“Thanks,” Pedro said. The corners of his mouth twitched, but the smile wasn’t quite there. 

“No problem,” Beatrice said. “Tell Ben I said hi.”

“Will do.” 

Beatrice watched him stride across the park toward Benedick’s house, feeling like a great weight had settled on her shoulders. She wanted to fix this, fix everything, but she knew she couldn’t. The best thing she could do for Pedro now was to make sure Hero's party happened just like it did before.

Tomorrow was going to suck. 


	17. Magic Baby Calming Powers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For anon, who requested Bea and Ben as new parents.

Imogen was crying again.

Beatrice groaned, snuggling closer to Benedick and burying her head under the covers. Of course they’d had a colicky baby. _Of course._

_“It’s our fault, really,”_ She’d said to Ben when they found out. _“We like to talk too much, so does she.”_

_“Yeah, but when we stay up late talking it’s fun.”_ Benedick said. _“Also, were you listening to the doctor? She’s definitely not crying because she feels like it.”_

_“I’m just trying to put a positive spin on this.”_

_“Her crying being our fault is the positive spin?”_

_“Well, at least she’ll be interesting to talk to in the future.”_

_“Okay, you’ve got me there.”_

“Ben,” Beatrice mumbled. “It’s your turn, come on.”

“I know it’s my turn, give me a minute,” he yawned, taking his arm from around her waist and sitting up, pulling some of the covers with him. 

“Hey! Blankets!” Beatrice said, yanking them back towards her and burying herself up to her chin in their warmth. 

“Sooorry,” Benedick said, brushing the hair off her face and leaning down to kiss her forehead, gently. “Be back in two seconds.” 

“That’s optimistic of you,” Beatrice smirked. 

“Ye of little faith,” Ben said, standing up and making his way towards the door.

“Thank you,” Beatrice called after him.

“Not a problem,” he answered. 

Beatrice listened as Ben’s footsteps went down the hall, the door to Imogen’s room creaked open, and soon her crying began to fade. 

It was so weird, being a parent. She remembered when the people at the hospital told them they were free to take Imogen home.

_“What?”_ Ben said. _“You mean, just like that?”_

_“Just like that,”_ the nurse smiled. _“She’s all yours.”_

Bea and Ben had exchanged a look. They’d prepared for this. They’d read books, they’d talked to their doctors countless times, they’d made absolutely sure they knew everything they needed to know. But when they looked down at the tiny person in Beatrice’s arms, suddenly everything they’d learned seemed meaningless. It was like walking into a test you forgot to study for. That feeling in the pit of your stomach like you know you might screw everything up, but you have to just buckle down and do your best. 

So they took her home. 

And it was amazing, obviously. Imogen was curious, and adorable, and they dressed her in so many geeky onesies that she was bound to grow up a huge nerd. Sure, Beatrice had gotten less sleep in the past few months than she had in a week at university, which was saying something, but overall the pros vastly outweighed the cons. 

It helped that she and Benedick had known each other so long. After fourteen years, they could interpret and predict each other’s moods like nobody else. Fourteen was a big number in their relationship, apparently. They’d met when they were fourteen, gotten married on December 14h, and now in their fourteenth year of knowing each other, they had a baby.  

An amazing, intelligent, incredibly colicky baby. 

Who was crying _again._

“Beeeea?” Benedick’s voice came from the other room. “Help.” 

“Ben, just rock her,” she called. She really didn’t want to move. 

“I _am_ , it doesn’t work when I do it.” 

“Uuugh,” Beatrice sat up resignedly, rubbing her eyes and shivering as the cold air hit her arms. She grabbed a sweatshirt from her dresser and pulled it on as she walked out the door, taking the few steps down the hall to Imogen’s room. 

Ben was sitting in the rocking chair, looking tiredly down at their wailing daughter. 

“We’ve been doing this for three months, you should have a handle on it by now,” Beatrice said, crossing her arms. 

“Can you just take her, Bea?” Ben asked, standing up and holding the baby out to her. “You’re better at it, anyway.”

“You just get nervous,” Beatrice protested. “She can tell.” 

“Well I don’t know how to change that, so would you please just take her before our ears explode?” Ben said, his eyes pleading for sleep. 

“ _Fine_ ,” Beatrice conceded, taking the still crying Imogen in her arms. “But you have to wait here until she’s asleep.”

“But-“

“Ben, please?” Beatrice said. “Just do this with me, It’s not that hard. Plus, I won’t be able to focus if you’re sleeping happily away in the next room.” She stared at him imploringly, and his face softened. 

“Okay, you’re right. Show me your magic baby calming powers,” he said, yawning despite his best efforts. 

“Oh my god, come on,” Beatrice said, freeing up her left hand to nudge Benedick back to the plush rocking chair. It was soft and dark blue, and just wide enough that the two of them could comfortably sit in it together. They snuggled down into the chair, Beatrice throwing her legs on top of Ben’s so she was half sitting on his lap. Imogen was still wailing, it was almost impressive how long her lungs were able to hold up. 

“Ginny, darling,” Beatrice cooed, holding her daughter close. “Don’t cry, come on.” Unsurprisingly, this did nothing to calm the baby.

“You need to rock her,” Ben said.

“What do you think I’m trying to do?”

“Well, I don’t know, rock her more!”

“Your feet are closer to the ground Ben, _you_ help me rock the chair.” 

“Alright, point taken,” Benedick said. He pushed his foot against the floor of Imogen’s room, and the chair began to rock slowly back and forth. It was such a calming motion, Beatrice had to struggle to keep from falling asleep herself. 

“I think we… we need to sing to her,” Beatrice said, stifling another yawn. “That works sometimes, right?” 

“Right, yeah, I think so,” Benedick mumbled. “What do you wanna sing?”

“I dunno, I can’t think with her crying like this.” 

“ _Oh baby, you’re crazy, we’ve_ … uh… _really got to sleep now_ ,” Benedick improvised. 

“Oh my god,” Beatrice laughed. “ _I don’t know what’s going on, but… I won’t last very long_ ,” she added. 

They both cracked up, and they were so sleep deprived that it became hard for them to stop laughing, despite Imogen’s cries. 

But all of a sudden, she wasn’t crying as loudly anymore. Her sobs turned to gasps, and then hiccups, and she stared up at them with her wide, blue eyes. 

“Ben,” Beatrice breathed. “Ben, we did it. She’s not crying anymore.” 

“You don’t have to tell me,” he said, planting a kiss on her cheek. “Nicely done.” 

“Come on, you came up with that _amazing_ song.” 

“Is that sarcasm I’m hearing, Beatrice?” 

“Maybe.” 

“Ginny, you liked it, right?” Benedick said, looking down at Imogen’s fluttering eyelashes. “Tell your mum what an awesome song it was.”

“Don’t do it Ginny, if you tell him he’s right once he’ll never let you forget it.” Beatrice added, snuggling down against Ben’s shoulder and letting her eyes close, just for a minute.

“She can do whatever she wants, you’re not her mum,” Benedick said, hazily. 

“Excuse you, I am so her mum.” 

“You’re right,” Benedick breathed, his head falling to rest on top of Beatrice’s. “You’re the best mum.” 

And then, one by one, the three of them fell asleep. 


	18. Happy St. Patrick's Day

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For anon, who requested tipsy/drunk Bea and Ben.

It was safe to say that Meg’s St. Patrick’s day party this year had been success, and it wasn’t even half over. 

“Beatrice,” Hero said, warily. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you this drunk.” 

“Don’tberidiculous,” Beatrice mumbled. “I’m toooootally fine.” 

“Nah, Hero’s right,” Benedick said, staring at her with amusement. “This is amazing.” 

“You shut your beautiful mouth,” Beatrice reached forward, covering his face with her hand. “YOU challenged me to do shots stupid, what was I supposed to do?”

“Lose!” Ben said, grabbing Beatrice’s hand and moving it away from his mouth so he could talk. “You were supposed to back down and admit that I am the true king of shots!” 

“More like the king of NOT,” Beatrice laughed, locking her fingers with Ben’s.

“Okay, that’s your cue to go home,” Hero said, setting down her empty glass and glancing around at the party, still in full swing. “Which of you drove?”

“Face it Beatrice,” Ben said, completely ignoring Hero. “I’m the king of your heart.” 

“Yeah, and I’m your knight in shining armor,” Beatrice hiccuped. “And I mean, Ben. Ben? Ben.” She cupped his face in her hands like she was confirming his existence. “Did I tell you today that I love you? Did you know that?”

“Funnily enough, I _did_ know that Bea,” he grinned, sleepily. “Maybe that’s why we’re daaaaating. Because of this epic… romantic… thing.” 

“The word you’re looking for is love, Ben. True love!”

“Twoo wuv!”

“Yes, twoo wuv!”

They both cracked up, which devolved quickly into making out. 

“That’s it,” Hero said, digging the car keys out of Bea’s purse. “I’m taking you home, you drunk losers.” 


	19. A Very Pedrazar Proposal

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For anon, who requested Balthazar and Pedro getting engaged!

Pedro shouldn’t have felt nervous. He and Balthazar had been together for years, clearly they were both crazy about each other. Hell, Balthazar had liked him _first._

Still, Pedro couldn’t help the butterflies that sprang up in his stomach whenever his fingers brushed the ring in his pocket. He was going to do this. He was really, truly going to do it, and Balthy would say yes. Of course he would. 

Pedro had tried calling Ben to ask his advice, but he’d been no help. 

“I know exactly how you should do it!” Benedick said excitedly over the phone. “Now I hope you’ve got a paper and pencil, because you’ll want to write this down. You’re going to need a ring, obviously, lights, a mango, two cakes-“ 

“NO,” Beatrice’s voice cut through.

“Well, in that case, I’m out of advice,” Benedick laughed. “Sorry, bro.” 

“Right,” Pedro mumbled. “Thanks so much Ben, you’re a real help.”

“Okay seriously Pedro, you don’t have to worry.” Ben said. “He’s gonna say yes.” 

“I hope so.”

“Is he actually worried?” Beatrice interjected again. “Oh my god, tell him he’s an idiot.”

“Beatrice says you’re an idiot,” Benedick said, cheerfully. “And for once, I think she may be right. Ow!”

There was a scuffling, a cry of protest, and loud laugh.

“You loser, I’m _always_ right!” 

“You made me drop the phone!”

Pedro sighed, and hung up. So much for consulting the married people. 

Maybe he should just wait. Balthazar might end up asking him, probably in some amazingly thought out way with a song, and candles, and other romantic things.

But Pedro didn’t want to do that. 

He’d always made Balthazar wait for him. Ever since year nine Pedro had dragged his feet, more focused on other people’s expectations than his own feelings. It was long past time for him to step up. 

He went to meet Balthazar that night after band practice, only slightly more dressed up than usual.

“Hey,” Balthazar smiled, kissing him on the cheek. “We were thinking about going out for a drink, you want to come?” 

“Actually,” Pedro said, “do you want to go outside with me, for a minute?”

He was worried he wouldn’t be able to get the words out, he could feel himself shaking, but the second Balthazar heard the sentence his entire demeanor changed. He stared at Pedro, recognition and confusion and disbelief all playing across his face. 

“Yeah, sure,” Balthy said, finally. “Let’s… yes. Outside.” 

Balthazar made a quick excuse to his band friends and Pedro took his hand, pulling him towards the door. The two stepped outside, and were immediately greeted by a bold sunset sweeping across the sky. Pedro almost forgot what he’d come outside to do, staring at the pinks and blues weaving their way through the clouds. Then he felt Balthazar’s hand tighten around his, bringing him back to earth. 

“Right,” he said, putting his free hand in his pocket. “Right, uh, Balthazar…”

They locked eyes, and suddenly the electric nerves shooting their way through his body lessened. In an instant, they were gone completely.

Pedro stared at Balthazar. The man he loved. Who he’d been living with since uni. Who had waited for too long for a guy who didn’t deserve him. 

Even so, he’d waited. Balthazar had seen the absolute worst in him, seen beyond the confidence he displayed to the public, and loved him anyway. And Pedro loved him back with everything he had.

“Balthazar,” Pedro said, more confidently this time. “You are the best person I’ve ever met, and I can’t believe you’ve stuck with me through everything. I mean, I’ve made a lot of mistakes, starting with not realizing how amazing you are sooner. But I can say now that I am _ridiculously_ in love with you.”

He took a deep breath, then drew the ring out of his pocket. 

“Marry me?”

Balthazar stared at the ring for five solid seconds. Then he looked back up at Pedro, beaming. 

“ _Yes_ ,” he said, quietly.

That was all Pedro needed to hear. 


	20. Guys Night

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For anon, who requested a guys night out ruined by pedro and balth's extreme couple power.

“John can’t come,” Pedro said, setting his phone down on the bar with a definitive click.

“ _What?”_ Benedick turned his head to stare, his eyes wide. “So this is  _not_  going to be the so called ‘guys night’ you invited me to?”

“What are you talking about, it’s still a guys night!” Pedro said, taking a sip of his beer.

“Yeah, we’re all guys,” Balthazar chimed in, cheerily, his voice barely audible over the commotion in the pub. 

“No no no, this has officially become ‘Benedick-third-wheeling-it’ night,” Ben insisted, setting his phone down as well and crossing his arms. “Something I definitely did _not_ sign up for.”

“Oh come on Ben, we’re not going to get all  _coupley_  on you,” Pedro smirked. “Some of us know when to turn that off.”

“If that’s a jab at me, I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Benedick said. “And I’m calling Bea.”

He reached for his phone, but Balthazar was quicker. He snatched it off the bar, stowing it in his bag before Benedick could protest.

“Come on Ben, we want to hang out with you,” Balthazar insisted. “It’s been a long time since we’ve seen you without Beatrice.”

“An extremely long time, Ben,” Pedro nodded. “Remember all that shit you used to give Claudio? Imagine you’re Claudio and we’re you.”

“Ugh,” Ben shuddered. “I’d prefer not to imagine myself as Claudio for any amount of time, thanks.”

“The point still stands,” Pedro said. “So just hang out with us for one hour,  _one hour_ , and you can have your phone back.”

Ben eyed the two of them suspiciously.

“You never invited John, did you?” he asked. Balthazar laughed.

“Oh come on, don’t be so melodramatic,” Pedro said, rolling his eyes. “Yes of course I called John, he has to work tonight.”

“You can call him to confirm that, if you… oh. Right,” Balthazar said, struggling to hold back his laughter. Benedick glared at them. 

“Fine,” he sighed. “One hour. And after that, if I feel like you guys are being overly adorable, I call Beatrice and this becomes a double date.”

“Fair enough,” Pedro said, leaning back in his chair. “Guys night begins now.”

***

It lasted all of fifteen minutes before Benedick stole his phone back out of Balthazar’s bag.

_Text from BeneDICK: BEATRICE HELP I’M BEING HELD CAPTIVE._

_Text from Beaaaa: ?????_

_Text from BeneDICK: I WAS TRICKED. THIS IS NOT A GUYS NIGHT. IT IS A THIRD WHEEL NIGHT._

_Text from Beaaaa: Okay, open with that next time._

_Text from BeneDICK: THEY’RE SINGING KARAOKE TOGETHER. KARAOKE, BEATRICE._

_Text from Beaaaa: omg. I’m on my way._


	21. Anniversary

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For anon, who requested Bea and Ben's first anniversary.

It was September 23rd, 2015, and Beatrice was not in a good mood. 

She trudged home after work, dumping her bag and her jacket on the floor before collapsing onto the couch. It had been a long and difficult day, and all she really wanted to do now was curl up and sleep. 

“Beatrice?” Hero’s voice came from the other room, “is that you?”

Beatrice groaned, snuggling deeper into the couch and pulling a blanket over her head. She wished she could just be left to sulk in peace. Nonetheless, she heard footsteps approaching, and someone tugged the blanket away from her face, gently. 

“Rough day?” Hero asked, understandingly. 

“The worst,” Beatrice mumbled. 

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Hero said, perching on the edge of the couch and putting her hand comfortingly on Bea’s shoulder. “You want me to get you some tea?” 

“Yes please,” Beatrice opened her eyes to smile faintly at her cousin. 

Hero was back in no time, a mug of tea in each hand and a tray of cookies balanced expertly on her arm. 

“Just out of the oven!” She said, excitedly, setting the snacks down on the coffee table in front of Beatrice. “The cookies, obviously, not the tea.” 

“Yeah, I guessed,” Beatrice laughed, sitting up and reaching eagerly for a cookie.

“So,” Hero said, sitting down next to her. “What happened today?” 

“Ugh,” Beatrice muttered through a mouthful of crumbs. “Customers being awful, like normal. I had to work an hour late because somebody else didn’t show up, and I haven’t heard…” she trailed off. 

Hero sipped her tea, looking puzzled. 

“Is it Ben?” she asked. Beatrice took a deep breath and sighed. “You know sometimes he gets busy with homework, I’m sure he’ll call sometime soon.”

“It’s just… I mean, you know how ridiculous he is,” Beatrice said, shifting uncomfortably on the couch. “I kind of thought he’d call _today_.” 

“What’s so special about today?” Hero asked, taking a cookie. 

Beatrice opened her mouth to say something, but reconsidered it. 

“Nothing,” she said, finally. “It’s just been a while.” 

“Well, it can’t be long now,” Hero smiled kindly. “Listen, I hate to kick you off the couch Bea, but I’m having some friends over in a few minutes.”

“Oh, am I not cool enough for your friends?” Beatrice teased. 

“No!” Hero said, her eyes wide. “That’s not it at all, I just thought you looked like you needed a rest. You won’t get any sleep down here, we’re studying for physics, so there might be a lot of annoyed yelling.” 

“I’m just joking Hero, I’ll leave,” Beatrice said, pushing herself up off the couch. “Tell your friends I said hi.” 

“I will!” Hero said, as Bea snatched a few more cookies off the tray. “Try not to worry too much about Ben, okay?” 

“I’ll do my best,” Beatrice grinned, but it faded as she turned away and walked up the stairs to her room. 

She slumped down on her bed, feeling stupid. 

It was their anniversary. A year ago today she’d thrown caution to the wind and kissed him before stats class, and they’d started dating for real. She wouldn’t have even remembered the date if it weren’t for the vlogs, but it was stuck in her brain now. 

She shouldn’t care. It was one day out of three hundred and sixty five that they’d been together, what made this one any different than the others? Beatrice didn’t want to be the kind of person who got angry when someone forgot an anniversary. She _hated_ those people. 

It would've been different if Benedick wasn’t away at uni. If she’d been seeing him every day for weeks, then none of it would’ve mattered. They could just sit down with popcorn and bicker their way through a movie like always. But she’d been hearing from him once, sometimes twice a week, and it wasn’t enough. She missed him like crazy. 

And it wasn’t like Benedick was a quiet guy. He was a sucker for grand gestures, _and_ he was a complete sap. He had to know it was their anniversary, right? He probably cared more than Beatrice did. 

But obviously he didn’t, because he hadn’t even called. 

Beatrice rolled over on the bed, reaching onto the floor for her laptop. She hoisted it up next to her and opened it, resting with her head on her hand.

She skimmed Facebook, her email, there was nothing new. Then, out of habit, she opened Youtube and clicked her subscription box.

It took her a minute to register what she saw. 

_Benaddicktion_ had uploaded a new video. 

Beatrice stared open mouthed at her computer screen. What? _What_? He was vlogging again? Her eyes darted to the video title: _One Year_. 

“You _didn’t_ ,” she whispered. What was he trying to do, blow their whole ‘secret dating’ thing to bits? What had the last few months of secrecy been for, if he was just going to destroy it all with one video? 

Beatrice clicked on it, and suddenly it was like the world slowed down around her. 

_“Hey guys!”_ Benedick said, smiling cheerily at the camera. _“Okay okay, I know what you’re thinking, where the hell have I been?”_ It was so good to hear his voice, to see him, Beatrice couldn’t help smiling. He was wearing their high school letterman jacket again, the one he thought made him look cool. 

_“I know I’m a bit late with this video. In fact, it’s been almost a year since I uploaded last. So… uh, sorry? I got busy!”_ He was gesticulating like crazy, clearly the old vlogging habits had not gone anywhere. _“You know how it is with homework, and other important things happening in your life, you don’t always have time to talk to the internet about your problems. Sometimes you go out and find, uh, different people to talk to! More immediately real people.”_

“ _Anyway, you guys have missed quite a bit,”_ Ben continued. _“It’s been a really good year for me, actually. Probably the best year.”_ Beatrice felt her breath catch in her throat. 

_“I know it doesn’t seem like such a long time, a year. Sometimes they go by really quickly, and it’s weird, because you don’t even remember them later. But in the time since I’ve uploaded my last video, I feel like I’ve become a better person. And it’s all thanks to you, really.”_

Beatrice knew the implication was that by ‘you’ he meant ‘his viewers,’ but she could see in his eyes that he was speaking right to her.

_“I know I can talk to you when nobody else will listen,”_ he said. _“And sometimes you don’t hear from me, and that sucks. But I want you to know that you’re brilliant, and amazing, and I can’t believe it’s been a year. I love you,”_ he paused. “ _…viewers.”_

But she knew he wasn’t talking to them. 


	22. Parenting Advice

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For anon, who requested Bea and Ben giving someone parenting advice.

“Imogen, don’t forget your lunch.”

“I won’t dad, come on.”

“You forgot it twice last week!”

“Yeah. That might’ve been on purpose.”

“HA!” Beatrice laughed, pointing excitedly at her husband. “You owe me ten dollars!”

“Excuse you, I think our daughter owes me an apology for berating my lunch packing skills!” Benedick protested.

“Oh my god, you have to stop placing bets on us,” Imogen rolled her eyes, hoisting her backpack over one shoulder and grabbing her lunch off the counter. 

“Yeah, stop placing bets on us,” Cecelia repeated, folding her arms like Imogen and frowning.

“Yeah, stop placing—“ James began, but Beatrice grabbed him and started to tickle him mercilessly.

“Only when you two stop repeating your sister!” She said over James’ panicked giggles.

“I thought we agreed that repeating things fell under the ‘creepy twin’ category we’re doing our best to avoid.” Benedick added, putting bag lunches in the twin’s backpacks and zipping them closed.

“Cecelia! Help!” James gasped, struggling to get away from his mother.

“What makes you think SHE can help you?” Benedick said, snatching Cecelia from behind and lifting her high in the air.

“DAD, NO!” Cecelia laughed.

“We are going to be  _so_  late,” Imogen mumbled from the hall.

The phone rang, and everyone stopped in their tracks.

“I’ll get it!” James said, slipping out of Beatrice’s grasp and skipping excitedly to the phone.

“Ugh, he got it last time!” Cecelia whined, as James picked up the receiver.

“This is the Duke-Hobbes house, James talking,” he recited. “Oh, hi Uncle Pedro! Yeah, mum’s here. Muuuuum!” he shouted. “Phoooone!”

“You can get the monsters to school, then?” Beatrice asked Ben, scooping Cecelia out of his grasp and setting her down, running a hand through her hair to try and tame it.

“Absolutely,” Benedick grinned, leaning in to kiss her. “See you later. Okay kids, the Benmobile is leaving the station!”

“Dad, you can’t call it the Benmobile. We  _all_  ride in it,” Imogen said, as Beatrice took the phone from James and shooed him towards the door.

“Ginny, when you buy your own car, you can name it whatever you like.”

Beatrice only heard the beginning of Imogen’s retaliation before the door slammed, and her family was out of the house.

“Hello, Pedro?” she asked into the phone.

“Beatrice!” Pedro sounded relieved. “Thank god.”

“And we’re both here, actually,” came Bathazar’s voice. “Hi Bea.”

“What happened?” Beatrice asked. “Is everything okay?”

“I mean, yeah. Basically, everything’s fine.” Pedro said, nervously. “Nobody’s hurt, or anything, if that’s what you mean.”

“So then what is it?”

“It’s, uh, it’s about Audrey.”

“Audrey?” Beatrice repeated. Pedro and Balthazar’s oldest daughter was about Imogen’s age, and she’d been perfectly fine the last time Beatrice had seen her. 

“Yeah,” Balthazar said, sounding just as awkward as Pedro. “We’re just feeling, you know… unprepared? At the moment?”

“Unprepared for what, what’s happening?” Beatrice was getting more than a little annoyed. “Stop being so cryptic guys, tell me what’s wrong!”

“Okay,” Pedro took a deep breath. “Oooookay. So, Audrey is a girl.”

“Yes.”

“And you are also a girl.”

“A woman, go on.”

“Right, sorry. So clearly, Balthy and me are not women.”

“Obviously.”

“So we’re not, you know, totally knowledgeable about everything. Like, girl things.”

“I swear to god Pedro, if you don’t get to the point right now…”

“She got her thing.” Balthazar interrupted.

“What thing?”

“You know,” he continued, slowly. “The… the girl thing.”

Somewhere in the back of Beatrice’s head, a lightbulb turned on.

“Oh. My. God. Are you both being serious right now? You can’t even _say_  it?”

“We don’t know anything about it!” Pedro protested.

“It’s just her _period_  you two, it is not that hard to understand!” Beatrice wasn’t sure whether to laugh or beat her head against a wall.

“It’s not our fault!” Pedro protested. “I mean, obviously we’ve been googling things—“

“I cannot believe I’m having this conversation with you.”

“But how are we supposed to help her with… I don’t know, all of it?” Balthazar asked, feebly.

“Okay,” Beatrice said, shaking her head. “Okay, here’s what you’re going to do. Take a deep breath, stop panicking, and send her home with Ginny after school. I can help her with whatever she needs.”

“Really?” Pedro breathed a sigh of relief. “Beatrice, you are a life saver.”

“This doesn’t make us bad parents, yeah?” Balthazar asked. “I mean, we just didn’t know what else to do…”

“No, Balthy of course not,” Beatrice smiled. “You guys are amazing parents. Ridiculous people, but amazing parents.”

“And what are the chances you won’t tell Ben about this?” Pedro asked hesitantly.

“Slim to none.”


	23. Concert Tee Shirts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For lunaticlunalovegood, who requested Ben attending Balthazar’s shows/making posters & shirts.

“What do you think?” Ben asked, holding a tee shirt proudly up to Balthazar’s face.

“I think you may have finally gone too far,” Balthazar said, his eyebrows raised.

“What? That’s ridiculous,” Ben scoffed, folding the shirt gently and throwing it on his bed. “If anything, I didn’t go far  _enough._ ”

 The shirt was something to behold. Ben had drawn pictures of all their friends hoisting Balthy into the air, guitar in hand. Above the figures, the words “ _We’re BalthaZANY!_ ” were spread out in huge red text. To top it all off, the entire image was bordered by ukuleles. There was glitter involved.

“How many of these did you make?” Balthazar asked, eyeing the sharpies and paint scattered haphazardly across Ben’s floor.

“Enough for everybody coming to your show, obviously,” Benedick grinned. “Well, all our friends, anyway.”

“You’re going to convince Beatrice to wear that?” Balthy asked, only half joking.

“Are you kidding? Who do you think did the lettering, have you seen my handwriting?”

“What about John?”

“Oh, he’s gonna wear it,” Benedick smiled mischievously. “He lost a bet.”

“What?” Balthazar asked, eyes wide. “What are you talking about?”

“Let’s just say he vastly underestimated the amount of olives I can eat in one sitting.”

Balthazar shook his head in disbelief, staring at the tee shirt again.

“You really didn’t have to do this, man.”

“Oh, believe me,” Ben said, “I definitely did.”

***

Everyone showed up at the show wearing their tee shirts, just like Balthazar knew they would. 

The banner was a bit of a surprise though.


	24. Bea's Birthday

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For xxbillieshears, who challenged me to write about Hero and Ben trying to plan Bea's birthday party. Must include the phrase "I don't think renting a giraffe is a realistic idea".

**_From HERO:_ ** _Coast is clear._

 **_From Ben:_ ** _did we come up with that code for nothing???_

 **_From HERO:_ ** _Really?_

 **_From Ben:_ ** _really._

 **_From HERO:_ ** _Fantail to Flamingo, the Giraffe is roaming the open plains._

 **_From Ben:_ ** _flamingo to fantail, your message is acknowledged. flamingo approaching the nest._

 **_From HERO:_ ** _You really think Bea wouldn’t be able to decode what we’re saying?_

 **_From Ben:_ ** _YOU BROKE CODE AGAIN also the door is locked help_

 

Hero opened the door, a look of almost Beatrice level sass on her face.

“Hi!” Ben said cheerily. “Can I come in?”

“I don’t know, you don’t look anything like a flamingo,” Hero said, raising her eyebrows.

“I’m hurt, Hero.”

“Oh, get in here weirdo,” she smiled, stepping aside to let him enter the house. “You said you’ve been brainstorming, right?”

“Oh, for weeks!” he answered, flopping down in his usual place on the sofa and digging a notebook out of his bag. “I’ll tell you right now, some of these ideas are quite good, if I do say so myself.”

“And the others?” Hero asked, sitting down beside him.

“The others are… less realistic.”

“Like?”

“Well, for example,” Ben flipped through the crinkled pages of his notebook. “Giraffe rides.”

“Oh, yeah,” Hero laughed. “I don’t think renting a giraffe is a realistic idea.”

“Unfortunately, it’s probably the  _best_  idea as well,”  Benedick sighed dramatically, “but I’m sure we’ll come up with something else.” He stared at his notebook, tapping his fingers nervously against the arm of the sofa.

“You know it won’t matter, right?” Hero asked, nudging Ben with her shoulder. “I mean, you don’t have to go crazy with this party to… I don’t know, to  _prove_  anything.”

“No, I know!” Ben said quickly. “I actually just want to do this. It’s not like I’ve had the opportunity to throw my girlfriend a birthday party before.”

“Well, she’s going to love it, whatever we do,” Hero smiled, “because we’re her favorite.”

“Yeah we are,” Benedick beamed, holding out his hand for a high five, which Hero accepted.

“So, top five ideas, go,” she said, settling back on the couch.

“Okay, top five, no problem.” Benedick shuffled his notebook around again, grabbing a pencil from his bag. “Number five, convince Benedict Cumberbatch to come to this party and officially divorce Beatrice.”

“Ooh, good one,” Hero said. “But he might be a little out of our price range.”

“Fair enough.” Ben agreed, crossing it off. “Okay, number four: bouncy castles.”

“Beatrice hates bouncy castles.”

“So we need to get seven.”

“Ben.”

“Maybe she’s just  _pretending_  to hate bouncy castles. Maybe she’s secretly  _in love_ with bouncy castles.”

“Next idea, Romeo.”

“Right, awesome idea numero three,” Ben flipped a page in his notebook. “We buy a hundred boxes of tea, and—“

“Nope,” Hero giggled.

“That was the best one!” Benedick protested.

“I’m sure it was absolutely lovely Ben, but again, price range.”

“Alright, point taken. You ready for idea number two?”

“Definitely.”

“Lord of the Rings marathon.” Benedick smiled like a crazy person. “We don’t tell people what’s going on beforehand, lock the doors and windows, and we don’t let anyone out until that ring is safely burning away in Mount Doom.”

“Hmm,” Hero pretended to consider the idea. “ _Maybe_ , but I feel like we’re still not there yet. Number one idea?” She looked at him expectantly, but Ben just shut his notebook and dropped it onto the coffee table.

“Honestly, idea number one is that everyone else sits and plays board games while Bea and I go make out in a closet or something,” he sighed. “Which I wouldn’t be opposed to obviously, but we can do that any old day.”

Hero eyed him suspiciously, glancing between his defeated figure and the notebook.

“Did you actually come up with any ideas?” She asked, gently. Benedick slumped down further on the couch.

“I mean, I  _did_ ,” he said, “but I don’t know. I just… I want it to be good. And fun. And not…” he trailed off.

“Not like my birthday party?” Hero ventured. Benedick looked up at her in alarm.

“Hero, no, that’s not what I—“

“Because if that’s what you’re worrying about, you really shouldn’t,” Hero interrupted, putting a hand on his shoulder. “Ben, come on. Nothing like that is going to happen. And Beatrice will love anything you do for her birthday, even if she pretends to be grumpy, because she loves _you_.”

Benedick opened his mouth to say something, but seemed to think better of it. Then he smiled slightly, before bringing his hands up to cover his face.

“You’re probably right,” he said after a second, rubbing his eyes.

“I’m definitely right,” Hero smiled. “So do you want to hear my brilliant birthday plan?”

Ben’s head shot up.

“You have a plan?” He asked, disbelievingly. 

“Absolutely,” Hero said. “I mean, it’s nothing fancy, but I think it’ll work just fine.”

“Tell me.”

“Okay, how’s this?” she grabbed Ben’s notebook and pencil from the table, and began to take notes in her small, neat handwriting. “Beatrice and I will make cookies in the afternoon, you two can go somewhere fun and get dinner, and after that we can invite everyone over to watch movies. That sound good?”

Benedick stared at Hero, a look of absolute admiration on his face.

“Hero,” he said, wistfully, “you are my favorite Duke.”

“Oh, come on,” she smiled. “We both know that’s not true.”


	25. Epic Date Night

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For anon, who requested Bea and Ben on a date!

“Guess what day it is?” Ben asked cheerily, placing a mug of tea in front of Beatrice with a satisfying clink.

“The day we officially start losing our minds?” She guessed, “because this baby is coming _today_.”

“We don’t know that for sure,” Benedick said, sitting down across from her with his own cup of tea. “It could be tomorrow.”

“It’s already a week late, Ben. It’s gonna be today.”

“Well, I’m totally ready.”

“You are?” Beatrice teased. “Remind me, which one of us couldn’t open the baby gate for three days?”

“I call conspiracy!” Benedick pointed his finger accusingly at Beatrice. “You superglued it, I _know_  you did!”

“Whatever helps you sleep at night, darling,” she grinned.

“You’re avoiding my question!” Ben pressed. “Guess what day it is?”

“Okay, what day is it?”

“It’s date night,” Benedick said, wiggling his eyebrows. Beatrice raised hers.

“I have a lot of questions,” she said, sipping her tea. “First off, shouldn’t you be asking me what  _night_  it is?”

“Uhhh, nope,” Ben said. “Next question.”

“Alright, remind me why tonight is date night?”

“Because,” Benedick reached across the table and laced his fingers through hers. “If you’re right-“

“Which I always am,” she smiled.

“Exactly,” he grinned back, “then this baby is coming soon. So we need to have one last big night together before there’s a crazy kid to worry about, right?”

“Hmm,” Beatrice considered the idea. “What do you want to do for this epic date night?”

“Well, here’s my idea,” Benedick said, the enthusiasm barely contained in his voice. “We both choose something to do, and don’t tell the other what it is, so there is an element of surprise in this ‘epic date night.’”

“ _Whatever_ we want to do?” Beatrice asked, her eyes scrunching mischievously. “This could be fun.”

***

In the time it took the two of them to plan their ideas and get ready to go, the epic date night had expanded exponentially.

“So we’re agreed,” Benedick said, hooking the clasp on Bea’s necklace for her. “We’ve each got _three_  date activities planned?”

“I can’t speak for you, but I know I’m ready,” Beatrice said, turning around and tugging playfully on Ben’s tie. “And you’re going down. My plans are going to be way cooler.”

“Oh, it’s gonna be a contest?” Benedick smiled. “Alright, you’re on. And you should know, you’re fighting a losing battle, love.”

“Mhmm. Hey, while we’re out, do you need me to buy you a fork?” Bea asked.

“What?”

“So you can eat your words later?”

“I honestly don’t know whether to just walk away or kiss you right now.”

“Oh, kissing is always the better option.”

***

“So epic date night starts at a bar?” Beatrice asked, raising her voice to be heard over the crowd. It was a loud bunch of people to be there at six in the evening, and she thought she could hear music coming from somewhere.

“Not just any bar Beatrice,” Benedick crossed his arms with satisfaction. “A  _karaoke_  bar.” Bea turned to stare at him, her eyes wide and staring.

“We’re  _not_.”

“Oh, not only are we,” Benedick said, pulling her towards the karaoke stage. “We are going to find the absolute cheesiest love song on that machine and sing it 100% seriously.” Beatrice could only shake her head back and forth.

“Why the hell would I do that. Why do  _you_  want to do that?”

“Because it will be hilarious!” Benedick argued, cheerfully.

“This would be a lot easier if I could get drunk,” Beatrice grumbled, begrudgingly letting Ben drag her towards the line of eager singers.

“Baby, did you hear that?” he asked, leaning down and addressing Bea’s belly. “She would rather risk your life than sing with me sober.”

“Okay, that’s it,” Beatrice said, pushing him off balance so that he almost fell over. “I will find the most sickly sweet song there is. It’ll be so good, all these people will start weeping.”

“That’s the spirit.”

Fifteen minutes later they were in front of the entire bar, arguing over song choice.

“Come on, this song is the wooorst, it’ll be amazing.”

“I told you, I don’t know the words!”

“Oh my god, they have the words for you! That’s part of karaoke!

Then, almost at the same time, they both saw it. The absolute, cheesiest, perfect song. Beatrice looked up at Ben, and he looked right back, excitement plastered across his face.

“Oh my god can we please-“

“100% yes.”

They grabbed the microphones off their stands with the kind of un-ironic confidence that can only be seen in people about to do something very stupid. Then the song began to play, and they were off.

“EACH MORNIN’ I GET UP, I DIE A LITTLE. CAN BARELY STAAAAND ON MY FEEEET.” Bea began, looking Benedick dead in the eye.

“TAKE A LOOOK, IN THE MIRROR AND CRY, LORD WHAT YOU’RE DOIN’ TO ME?” He countered, unable to keep from smiling.

“I SPENT ALL MY YEARS BELIEVIN’ YOU, BUT I JUST CAN’T GET NO RELIEF, LOOOORD.” Beatrice was smiling too, trying not to laugh at the ridiculousness of it all.

“SOMEBODY, OOOOH SOMEBODY. CAN AAANYBOOODY FIIIND MEEEEE, SOMEBODY TO LOOOVE?” They sang together, both of them failing miserably to keep straight faces.

***

“So far it’s Benedick one, Beatrice zero,” Ben said as they walked away from the bar.

“You can’t say that already, we haven’t gotten to my place yet!” Beatrice countered. “I can’t be loosing if I haven’t had the chance to play!”

“That’s inspirational. You should put that on a postcard or something.”

“Come on,” Beatrice rolled her eyes, squeezing Ben’s hand and leading him towards some brightly colored shops. “It’s my turn.”

They walked along the sidewalk hand in hand, past other couples and joggers and people walking their dogs. A little girl nearly collided with Beatrice as she ran to catch up with her family.

“Sorry!” she said, making a point to turn around and wave before skipping back to her parents. Beatrice watched her go, feeling something tug at the base of her chest.

“Bea?” Benedick asked. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” she mumbled. “Yeah, sorry. This way.”

She lead him into a bakery full of sweet smells and warmth. There were two plush chairs in the corner next to the window, and Bea pulled Benedick towards them.

“Stay here,” she said, letting go of his hand. “I’ll be right back.”

“Are you getting us desert before actual food?”

“Who said I was getting  _you_  anything?” she smirked, before heading off towards the counter.

She returned soon, a small paper box in hand.

“Here,” she said, holding it out to Ben. “Open it.” He gave her a look, but still took the box and carefully pulled open the lid to see what was hidden inside. He stared at it, blankly.

“It’s two cupcakes,” he said, looking up at her in confusion.

“It’s two  _cakes_ ,” she corrected.

Benedick continued to look perplexed for a moment, before his entire face exploded into a smile. It would’ve been hard to forget Ben’s infamous proposal, involving string lights, a mango, and indeed, two cakes.

“ _Beatrice_ ,” he said, apparently at a loss. “You… I love you.” Beatrice laughed, leaning down to kiss him on the cheek.

“So, point Beatrice?” she asked, plucking one of the cupcakes out of the box.

“If I was an impartial referee, you would probably just win right now.” he said, taking a bite of his own cupcake. “Oh my god, are these  _mango_  flavored?”

“Yeah, well, olive flavored sounded gross, you know?”

“I  _love_  you.”

“I love you too.”

***

When they arrived at Benedick’s second location, Beatrice was feeling a little ill.

“It’s nothing,” she insisted. “We’ve just been walking a lot, that’s what it is.”

“Okay, well this next thing doesn’t involve any walking, so you’re in luck,” Benedick said, still eyeing her nervously. “But if you need anything-“

“I’ll be fine,” she assured him. “So come on, epic date night, let’s go.”

“Right,” Ben said, pulling his eyes away from her stomach. “Right, okay. So we need to get food, right?”

“Definitely, oh my god,” Beatrice said. “So hungry right now. Continue.”

“So I thought, what would be the absolute most appropriate place to eat for this epic date night?” he said. “Not somewhere extremely classy, because we’re about to spend all our money on baby things, but obviously not somewhere lame either.”

“And what exactly is this magical restaurant you’ve found?” Beatrice asked, bemusedly.

“Behold,” Benedick said as they rounded a corner. “ _Olive_  Garden.”

It was hard for Beatrice to remember the last time she had given him such a look of mixed sass and amusement.  

“Don’t pretend you’re not excited,” Benedick said, nudging his shoulder against hers.

“I will give you this much,” she said as they approached the bustling restaurant. “You don’t ever stop amazing me.”

“But in a good way, right?”

“Most of the time.”

***

“You’re sure you’re okay?” Benedick asked after they’d finished their dinner, which had actually been pretty good. “You look sort of…”

“Pregnant?” Beatrice said. She looked down at her stomach and gasped dramatically. “Why didn’t you SAY something Ben, oh my god how EMBARRASSING.”

“I’m serious!” he laughed, watching out of the corner of his eye as customers at a neighboring table turned to stare. “If you don’t feel well we can go home.”

“Absolutely not,” Beatrice said, crossing her arms. “I am not giving up now and letting you win by default.”

“Fine,” Benedick said, putting his hands in the air in defeat. “But you’ll let me know if anything-“

“Yes, Ben. Promise,” she said, grabbing the check off the table and scribbling her signature on it. When she looked up again, she realized how anxious he looked, and her face softened. “I promise,” she repeated. “Everything’s fine. It’s just, you know, baby stuff.”

“If you say so,” Ben said, the corners of his mouth twitching. “So, how do you plan to top Olive Garden?”

“Impressively,” she said, confidently. “Come on, help me get out of this chair without falling on my face.”

Soon they were exiting the restaurant, Ben calling back a cheery ‘thank you’ to the wait staff.

“We must be married or something,” Beatrice said, linking her arm through Ben’s, “because we managed to choose date locations that were all within walking distance of each other.”

“So what you’re implying is that we’ve got some sort of, married people mental link?” Benedick asked.

“I mean, we’ve always had a mental link,” Beatrice said. “I think it just got enhanced somehow when we started living together all the time. Speaking of weddings…”

They were rapidly approaching a city park, where an enormous tent had been set up. There was music, fairy lights, and a couple hundred people dancing as the sun began to go down. It was possible to pick out two young women in white dresses hanging around towards the edge of the tent, laughing and dancing together.

“Whose wedding reception?” Benedick asked, looking around for a familiar face.

“No idea,” Bea said. “You want to crash it?”

Benedick stared at her, open mouthed.

“You’re not serious.”

“Look at my face. Is this a serious face?” Beatrice asked. It definitely was.

“How did you even know there was a wedding happening here?” he asked, still shocked at Bea’s choice of activity.

“I have my sources,” Beatrice said, mysteriously. “Also Meg knows one of the brides.”

“So we’re not really crashing it, are we?”

“We weren’t invited.”

“Fair point.”

It wasn’t that hard to make their way into the crowd. Beatrice had to question the decision to place the wedding reception in such a public place with little to no way to exclude strangers. But when she ate a few cheese cubes from the food table, she changed her mind. Those two women were geniuses to let strangers in, however accidentally.

“You wanna dance?” Ben asked coming up behind her and putting his arms around her shoulders.

“Seems like a good way to round out my side of date night,” she grinned, tugging him towards the edge of the dance floor so they wouldn’t be too noticeable.

She never used to like couples dancing, it seemed so awkward and slow. What did people say to each other while they were swaying there? Anything?

But dancing with Ben was nice. Normally the best part about being with Benedick was talking and debating, but sometimes just being in his presence was enough. Slowing down was not something they were used to doing, but it was fun to dance so close together.

***

“So, where do we go from here?” Beatrice asked as they made their way from the reception, still going strong.

“Over here,” Benedick led her over to a different part of the park, one with a swing set and playground equipment. He nodded his head toward the swings, and they both sat down next to each other.

“So,” Beatrice said, pushing herself back and forth gently on the swing, “what now?”

Benedick didn’t say anything, but reached into his pocket and pulled out a small box. Beatrice eyed him questioningly, but he just smiled and held it out to her.

She took it, noticing the crinkled wrapping paper and bow that tied it all together. She tugged gently on the ribbon, then pulled off the wrapping paper haphazardly before opening the box slowly.

Inside was a tiny onesie, covered all around in miniature, happy giraffes.

“Everybody gave us so much flamingo stuff,” Ben explained. “Which is amazing, don’t get me wrong, but I thought we should try to keep things even, you know? Favorite animal wise.”

Beatrice didn’t respond. She kept staring at the small piece of fabric in her hands, worrying it between her fingers.

And then there were tears in her eyes.

“My water broke,” she admitted, quietly.

“WHAT?” Ben jumped up from his swing, “JUST NOW?”

“No,” Beatrice said. “At the Olive Garden.”

Benedick opened his mouth to say something, say anything to her, but he couldn’t find words.

“Beatrice,” he said, finally, trying to bring reason back into the conversation, “we  _have_  to go to the hospital.”

“I can’t,” she said, putting the onesie back in the box and shoving it in her purse.

“What do you mean you can’t, we’re having a baby, Beatrice!”

“I mean I CAN’T,” Beatrice stood up from her swing, her eyes still watering. She stared at Ben intently, waiting for him to say something back, but he just looked at her like he didn’t know her at all. Seeing him like that made her frustration shatter into pieces, and she buried her face in her hands.

“I’m just so scared, Ben,” she whispered, shivering slightly in the night air. “I mean, I have no idea what I’m doing, or how to do this, or anything at all.”

“Beatrice, hey,” Benedick reached out and grasped her hands tightly in his. “Everything’s gonna be okay.”

“But it’s freaking me out,” she insisted, her eyes looking straight down at her stomach. “What if something goes wrong, or worse, what if  _we_  fuck something up? Remember all those times in the past nine months I ate cookie dough? There’s raw egg in that, what was I thinking!”

“Beatrice,” Benedick tugged her closer to him, resting his forehead against hers so that their noses just barely touched. He could hear her breathing, fast and rhythmic in the quiet of the park.

“Beatrice Duke,” he repeated. “Love of my life. You are brilliant and courageous, and you always work hard on things you care about.” She squeezed his hands tightly, her breath slowing slightly. “You are going to be the best mum, Bea,” Ben added, softly.

They stood there together, letting the sounds of the evening fill the space around them. Beatrice shifted, nudging her head up to kiss him, the world evaporating around them as they embraced. When she pulled back, Beatrice was smiling.

“I know where my third place is going to be,” she said.

“Oh yeah?” Benedick grinned. “Where?”

“I’m gonna say, the hospital,” Beatrice took a deep breath. “Because we’re having a baby.”

“Most epic date night  _ever_.”


	26. Reunion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For anon, who requested Bea and Ben reuniting after being away from each other for a while!

It was almost three in the morning, and they were still texting.

Beatrice had her covers pulled up over her head, snuggled into her sheets with her phone held tightly in her hand. The screen was as dim as it could be, but even so its light made her eyes burn. Still, she had no plans to turn it off anytime soon.

Normally they would be talking on the phone, but Benedick and his parents were all sleeping in the same hotel room and he didn’t want to wake them up. Once, when he’d been staying with his cousins in England, he and Beatrice had talked until five in the morning until they both fell asleep with their phones in their hands.

_Ben: I miss you._

A smile crept its way across Beatrice’s face as she read the text. She was willing to bet that 60% of their texts over the past month had been those three words.

_Me: I miss you too._

_Ben: But not much longer._

_Me: Like when you go to sleep? Or are you talking about tomorrow._

_Ben: Tomorrow, obviously. who says I don’t miss you when I’m asleep?_

_Me: You are such a sap._

_Ben: Who are you calling a sap? does “literally every single thing about today reminded me of you” ring any bells?_

_Me: I never claimed NOT to be sappy. But just so we’re clear, that stays between us. TLG must never know._

_Ben: are you kidding? if they knew how disgustingly adorable we really are they’d never let us hear the end of it._

_Me: Good to know we’re on the same page._

_Ben: Communication._

_Me: I miss you._

_Ben: I miss you too._

_Me: When does your flight get in again?_

_Ben: Around 4, I think? we have to get up sooooo early I’m going to die._

_Me: You’ll be fine. I think everyone is coming to meet you._

_Ben: At the airport?_

_Me: Yep._

_Ben: Cool._

_Me: I mean, I’M not coming._

_Ben: …_

_Me: Yeah, I’ve got some other things to take care of. Don’t really feel like going to meet you. You understand._

_Ben: You’re the worst._

_Me: I’m actually leaving for Australia the morning you get back, so I won’t be able to see you for several months._

_Ben: Not funny. don’t even joke._

_Me: <3_

 

***

Beatrice saw him before he saw her, trudging towards the baggage claim behind his parents. For a second she couldn’t breathe, her eyes locked onto Benedick and her heart beating like crazy. He was actually, truly back in New Zealand.

“What are you waiting for?” Meg asked, nudging up against Beatrice and smiling mischievously. “Go get him!”

It was all the prompting she needed. Beatrice started walking forward, then jogging between the other commuters until he was right there in front of her. Benedick looked up from the floor, only getting a split second of warning before Bea tackled him with a hug. He dropped his suitcase, locking his arms around her waist and nearly lifting her off the ground.

“Missed you,” she said after a moment, pulling back from the hug to nudge her head against his. “Missed you so much-“

He cut her off, leaning in to kiss her, and they were both oblivious to the rest of the world.

“Oh my GOD,” Meg said, turning everyone’s attention away from Beatrice and Benedick. “They’re so sweet to each other, this is embarrassing.” She was holding Bea’s phone in her hand, swiping her way through text after text.

“Meg!” Hero protested, crossing her arms. “That’s private, how did you even get her phone?”

“I just grabbed it out of her bag when she got distracted,” Meg said innocently, her eyes still glued to the screen. “She won’t mind.”

“Do we  _want_  to see what they wrote?” Balthazar asked, looking skeptical.

“It’s just so  _cute,”_ Meg said, confusion written on her face. “How long was he gone, a month? There’s not nearly as much sexting as I expected.”

“Not  _nearly_  as much?” Pedro said, looking alarmed.

“No, that’s it,” Hero snatched the phone back from Meg. “Beatrice! Meg stole your phone!”

But Beatrice wasn’t paying attention.

 


	27. 36 Hours (Donalduke)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For Wibbelkind, who requested Donalduke at a Starbucks when one of them has gone 36 hours without sleep.

“Are… are you okay?”

“NO,” Hero said, looking up at John from her position on the sidewalk, tears running down her cheeks. “I am _not_ okay. Everything is awful.” 

John eyed the ground around her. Had she fallen over? There was nothing to indicate what could’ve made her so upset, only…

Oh. 

There was a paper coffee cup lying in the street, its contents forming a river as they trickled out onto the pavement. 

“Did you… is that yours?” John asked hesitantly, pointing to the mess. Hero curled up in a ball, nodding solemnly as she hiccuped through her sobs. “Can’t you just, you know, buy another one?”

This reasoning did nothing to calm Hero down. If anything, it made her worse. 

“I COULD,” she said, her voice muffled as she had her head up against her arms. “But I’m not GOING to. I am so done with today, everything is the worst. I just want to go to sleep…”

“Why don’t you?” John asked, trying to ignore the people staring at them as they passed.

“Because,” Hero hiccuped. “Because I have _four_ tests tomorrow that I’ve been studying for, and I won’t pass unless I study all weekend.”

“How long have you been studying?”

“I don’t know, John, a day and a half?”

“Without sleeping?” 

“You don’t understand, I _have_ to pass these tests.”

John eyed Hero, curled up on the sidewalk with her head buried in defeat. He bit his lip. Then, he held out his hand. 

“Come on,” he said. “Let’s go get more coffee.” 

Hero lifted her head slowly, staring at his hand in surprise.

“Really?”

“Really,” he smiled, slightly. “You look like you need it.” Hero stared at him. Then, carefully, she took John’s hand and let him pull her up.

“Thank you,” she said, wiping her eyes with the sleeve of her sweater. “I don’t know what’s going on with me today.”

“Honestly,” John said, holding open the Starbuck’s door. “You don’t have to thank me for anything.” 


	28. The Five Times Beatrice Duke Hated the Airport and the One Time She Didn't

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For xxbillieshears, who asked me to write about the five times Beatrice hated the airport and the one time she didn't : )

“You promise you’ll call?”

“I’ll call every week!”

“Every day!” Beatrice insisted, grasping Hero’s hands tightly. “Call every day.”

“Beatrice!” Her mother said, checking her watch nervously. “We really have to go, our flight leaves in thirty minutes.”

“One second!” Bea yelled over her shoulder, making a face at her parents before turning quickly back to Hero. “I’ll miss you.”

“Me too,” Hero grinned, wrapping her arms around her cousin.

“You’re gonna have such an amazing year, I really liked being ten. You have to tell me all about it, promise?” Beatrice asked.

“I promise.” 

“You swear?”

“Beatrice,” it was her father this time, which meant that she couldn’t stall much longer. “Finish saying goodbye and let’s get going.”

“I swear, I promise to tell you everything about my year,” Hero giggled into Beatrice’s ear, before pulling her small arms back from around Bea’s waist.

“I love you!” Beatrice waved, as Hero’s began walking backwards towards her mums.

“I love you too!” Hero beamed, watching Bea until the last possible second before her parents shuffled her out the doors.

Bea rejoined her mum and dad, sulking with her arms firmly crossed.

“I think we’re going to make the flight,” her mother breathed, sounding relieved. “We should be able to make it through security on time. Are you excited to get on a plane again, Beatrice?”

“No,” she mumbled, giving her suitcase a kick.

“What?” her father asked. 

“I said NO, I’m not excited to fly on the stupid plane, okay?” Beatrice groaned. “I just want to stay here, with Hero.”

Suddenly, it all hit her. She was truly leaving Auckland, and Hero, and everything. It would be a long time before she could see them all again.

Her face scrunched up, and the next thing Bea knew she was sobbing into her mum’s sweater in the middle of the line to go through security.

“I  _hate_  airports,” she gasped through her tears, her mothers hand gently massaging circles in her back. “I  _hate_  them.”

***

Beatrice sat in the corner of the airport cafe, flicking through her book absentmindedly while her mum chatted away by the counter. She’d made friends with some strangers, as she  _always_  did. So while her dad was getting coffee, her mum was rattling on about her life like she was talking to a couple of biographers.

“Oh, we met in college, actually!” Bea’s mum said brightly, smiling at the young brunette who’d been asking about her marriage. “How else would a guy from New Zealand and a woman from Minnesota end up together, right?”

“Gary and I met at university,” the woman smiled, nudging the guy standing next to her. “It took a little while for us to get off the ground, but we got there in the end.”

“Oh, for us it was just immediate.” Bea’s mum said, emphatically. “I mean, I don’t think I’ve ever been in love with anyone else!”

“That’s beautiful,” the woman sighed. “How did you know so quickly?”

“A lot of things tipped me off,” her mum said, smiling. “We were always on the same page, it was like our thoughts were linked. I remember saying “yes” all the time, everything he said was so relatable to me. It didn’t take that long for everything to fall into place, next thing you know we got married and had a daughter.”

The couple glanced over at Beatrice, who waved half heartedly.

“Who knows?” the man, Gary, joked. “Maybe next thing you know _she’ll_  be married with a daughter.”

“Oh my god, don’t even joke!” Beatrice’s mum laughed. “She’s only fourteen.”

“You can’t be in love when you’re fourteen, weirdo,” the girl said, shoving Gary lightly.

Beatrice felt the edges of her book digging into her hands, she was gripping it so fiercely.

“ _It’s dumb that Meg and Robbie are dating, isn’t it?”_

_“I know, right? She’s way too cool for him.”_

_“No, I mean just dating in general. It’s dumb.”_

_“…What do you mean?”_

_“I mean, we’re fourteen. Fourteen Beatrice, what do we know about love?”_

_“I don’t know, aren’t there… people you like?”_

_“Like… girls?”_

_“Not… not necessarily. By your logic, how can we be sure we’re choosing the right friends when we’re fourteen?_

_“Well, picture it this way. Some friendships are like butterflies, okay? They die in three days.”_

_“So what you’re saying is, our friendship is doomed?”_

_“What? No, Beatrice that’s not-“_

_“You know what? I have to go.”_

_“Wait, but-“_

_“See you around, Benedick.”_

_“Tomorrow, right? Before you go back home?”_

_“Bye.”_

Beatrice glared at the words in her book, trying to force them to make sentences. She could picture Ben, knocking on her door that morning to see why she hadn’t said goodbye to him. Why she wasn’t answering his calls.

“So, are there any adorable young men in your daughter’s life?” The brunette stranger asked, glancing over at Beatrice with an eager grin.

God, airports were the worst.

***

Their flight had been delayed. Again.

Beatrice and her mum were shopping through some of the tacky airport stores, looking for anything to make their long wait more bearable.

“So, Beatrice,” her mother began, flipping through a magazine innocently. “Did you see much of Benedick this summer?”

It was like someone had dumped a bucket of ice water down Beatrice’s neck.

“No,” she said firmly, hoping to end the conversation as quickly as possible.

“He was such a nice boy,” her mum continued, clearly not getting the message.“He used to come over all the time last summer, but he never comes over anymore.”

Beatrice made a face at the shelf of candy bars she was examining.

“He’s not nice, mom. He’s awful.” she said. “Did you say you needed a neck pillow? I can go find one.”

“No, I think I’ll be fine,” her mum said, giving her a look. “Did something… did something happen? Do you want to talk about it?”

“God Mom, it’s _nothing_. A year ago he seemed cool but he turned out to be awful, that’s the whole story, okay? Can we talk about something else?”

“I…” Beatrice’s mum seemed to want to press the issue, but after a moment she nodded slowly. “Okay, what do you want to talk about? Because we’ve got at least another three hours before our flight gets here.”

“Uuuuuugggghhhh.”

***

“You promise you’ll call?”

“Are you joking? I’m calling you the second I get through security.”

“We’ll have  _so_  much to catch up on.”

“I know you’re joking Bea, but there are weird people in airports. I could run into Benedict Cumberbatch for all you know.”

“Would you get his autograph for me?”

“Absolutely not, I would fight him to the death.  _There can be only one_ …”

“Benedick!” Ben’s mum was tapping her foot nervously. “I’m sorry, but we’ve got to get a move on.”

“Right. Just a second, mum,” Benedick turned back around to look at Beatrice, everything in his eyes saying he didn’t want to go. Bea smiled sadly, pulling him down towards her and kissing him. They stayed like that for a long time, both of them wanting to remember every detail.

“Ben?” His mother called, weakly. “It’s now or never!”

He pulled back reluctantly, nudging his head up against Bea’s.

“See you in two weeks,” she breathed. Ben grinned.

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

Beatrice watched him go, pulling his suitcase behind his parents and glancing over his shoulder at her every five seconds. Then they rounded a corner, and he was gone.

Beatrice felt something tugging at the pit of her stomach. She looked around at the walls of the airport, all imposing and clean and rigid.

“You, I  _hate_ ,” she frowned up at the ceiling. “Always have, always will.”

***

Ben’s flight home was rescheduled. Then it was cancelled.

As he had explained it to Beatrice before his phone died, they thought they might be able to get home by 5 AM.

“ _So just come back around five,_ ” He’d said.

“What if I miss you?”

“ _You won’t miss us._ ”

“I’ll just wait here, I’ve got my computer.”

“ _You’re honestly just going to wait at the airport for five hours? You’re insane._ ”

“And you’d better hurry up and get here, dickface.”

“ _Beatrice, you don’t ha-_ “ but the line had gone dead.

“Ben?” she’d said, shaking the phone like that would make it work again. “Ben, can you hear me?”

She’d tried calling back, to no avail. She guessed they were running around the airport trying to find an available flight, so they didn’t have time to find an outlet. If everything had gone well, Ben was flying back to her right at that moment. And if not, well, she wondered how long it would be before airport security came to kick her out.

“This is all your fault,” she mumbled to the airport. There was nobody else hanging around the baggage claim, just a janitor scrubbing windows in the corner. “You’re an awful place where awful things happen. What did I ever do to you?”

The airport didn’t respond, obviously, but its cavernous ceiling seemed to leer back at her.

And she was going to be stuck there under it for two more hours.

***

“Hey, Sleeping Beauty,” said a faraway voice. “I told you to go home and come back, didn’t I?”

Beatrice fluttered her eyes open, shutting them tightly as the florescent lights burned at her corneas. But as she began to wake up, she realized someone was holding her hand.

She pushed herself up, her eyes shooting open to stare into Ben’s beaming face.

“Hey,” he said, pushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “Miss me?”

“Oh my god,” Beatrice reached forward and hugged him, wrapping her arms tightly around his neck like she wasn’t ever going to let go. He returned the hug, pulling her up to a standing position as he did so.

“I can’t believe you actually stayed,” he laughed, which made Beatrice laugh too. “Don’t you hate airports?”

“Most of the time,” she said, snuggling her chin into the crook of his neck. “But right now I fucking  _love_  the airport.”

“Awesome,” Ben said. “Does that mean I have to fight the airport to the death too?”

“No.”

“Because that’s going to take a really long time.”

“ _No,_ ” Beatrice laughed, pulling back from the hug and taking his hands in hers. Ben leaned forward, but Beatrice shook her head.

“Ben, I just woke up. In an airport. You definitely don’t want to kiss me right now.”

“Oh, believe me,” Benedick grinned. “I really,  _really_  do.”


	29. 36 Hours (Beadick)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For fictionalbirds and what-is-past-is-prologue, who requested Beadick at a Starbucks when one of them has gone 36 hours without sleep.

“Ben, come on.”

“NO,” Ben shouted, lying flat on his back in the middle of the Starbucks. “Just leave me here to die, Beatrice.”

“I’m not leaving you here, stupid,” she said, kneeling down next to him. “You’re gonna get up, and we’re going to get you another coffee.” She glared around at the people staring at them, who promptly pretended to be focused on their drinks.

“What, just REPLACE the old one?” Ben said indignantly, putting his face in his hands. “It’s my fault he spilled everywhere!”

“ _He_?” Beatrice rolled her eyes. “Ben, it’s just a coffee.”

“No it’s  _not_!” He insisted, his eyes beginning to well up.

“Benedick, love, don’t cry,” she pushed his hair away from his eyes, pulling his head gently into her lap. “It’s been a really long couple of days, but you’re going to be fine, okay? You can pass this test, I know you can.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I do, honestly. You need to stop freaking out.”

“Uh, excuse me,” a voice came from above them, and Beatrice and Benedick both looked up in alarm. A girl in a Starbucks apron was standing there, holding a coffee in one hand and looking more than a little worried.

“Yea?” Beatrice asked, defensively. “Can we help you?”

“I just wanted to see if everything was okay?” the girl asked, her eyes flicking down to Benedick, still lying flat on the floor in front of the coffee bags. “And, I wanted to give you this.” She held out the coffee. Beatrice eyed her for a moment, sizing her up.

“Aren’t you going to kick us out?” She asked, suspiciously.

“I mean, it’s 1PM,” the girl said, gesturing around the half filled store. “Not exactly our busiest moment of the day. Plus, there was a guy here earlier who tried to bring his pet goat into the store, so this isn’t the strangest thing that’s happened to me this afternoon.”

“A goat? Seriously?”

“Oh yeah,” the girl shook her head. “Don’t even get me started.”

“What do you think, Ben?” Beatrice asked, smiling at the girl. “Would your first coffee mind?”

“You know what, maybe not,” Benedick said, his eyes fixated on the paper cup. “Bea, can you pull me up?”

“I thought you’d never ask.” 

 


	30. Parks and Rec AU!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For sincerelybeaduke, who requested a Beadick Parks and Rec AU!

“Okay people,” Beatrice said, sticking her pencil behind her ear and examining her clipboard thoroughly. “The city-wide Summer Fun Times Public Picnic is in two days, and I need everyone to be incredibly on top of everything. Status report, Pedro and Balthazar?”

“Okay, uh, things are going great!” Pedro said, excitedly. “We did all the things you said to do, no problem.”

“Also we put fire ants in one of your cars, but I don’t remember which one,” Balthazar added, strumming his guitar lazily.

 “Helpful,” Beatrice sighed, “But Pedro, are you sure you did everything I asked you to do? It was an extensive list. “

“Do you ever write non extensive lists?” Hero asked, grinning.

“Hero, you are a delight and a treat but right now I need you to shut your beautiful mouth,” Beatrice said. “Pedro, list, done?”

“Uhh, let’s see,” Pedro searched around in his pockets, finally pulling out a tiny scrap of paper. “We bought laundry soap, so yeah. We did everything your list said to do.”

“What?” Beatrice grabbed the paper from Pedro’s hand. “Is this your shopping list?”

“Oooh, that makes so much sense now!” Pedro said. “I was wondering how you knew we needed laundry soap.”

“We still need that,” Balthazar said, pulling a sharpie out of his pencil cup and making note on Pedro’s hand.

“Why? You said you did everything on the list!” Beatrice countered, indignantly.

“Well we were going to get it, but then we got distracted and bought a bunch of tiny cactuses instead,” Balthazar explained. “Now our entire house is dangerous.”

“Oh my god, okay new plan,” Beatrice started scribbling feverishly on her clipboard. “Hero, I’m going to split the things Pedro and Balthazar were supposed to do between everyone in the office. That way, nobody has too much extra work to do. Sound good?”

“That sounds like a great plan, Bea,” Hero smiled. “Where do you want to go fir-“

“I think we should go to Ben’s office,” Beatrice interrupted. “That makes the most sense.”

“He’s all the way across the building,” Hero said, bemused.

“Yeah, well, everyone else is probably busy.”

“Hiya guys!” came a voice from behind them, and they all turned to see Robbie walking towards them. “Whatcha talking about?”

“Damn it Robbie!” Beatrice shouted. “Why do you have to be awful all the time?”

 

***

 

“Beatrice!” Ben said, standing up quickly from his chair. “Hey, what’s- oh. Hi Hero.” He looked disappointedly over at Bea’s cousin.  

“Hey Ben,” Hero smiled understandingly, waving at him.

“Hi there, coworker,” Beatrice said, offering him an awkward high five. “Just stopping by, strictly a business visit, you know the drill. How about that harvest festival a few weeks ago, that was a blast, right?”

“Yeah, you know I hear the woman who organized it was incredibly talented and brilliant and gorgeous,” Ben grinned.

“That’s funny, because I heard that her number two on that project had a really nice butt.” Beatrice countered.

“Oh my god,” Hero rolled her eyes. “Guys, this is adorable, but we actually do have some things to get done.”

“Good point Hero,” Bea said, not looking away from Ben. “So I’ll explain it to him, you want to go wait outside? Make sure nobody… you know?” Hero raised an eyebrow.

“You want me to bodyguard for you?”

“So nobody walks in on this important business meeting, yes.”

Hero sighed, but she was smiling as she walked out of Ben’s office and shut the door behind her.

“Hi,” Beatrice said, her eyes locked on Ben.

“Hi,” he responded, taking her face in his hands and pulling her into a kiss. Beatrice responded enthusiastically, grabbing his tie and tugging him closer.

“This is actually really stupid,” she said, pulling back after a moment. “Even with Hero body guarding, we could super get caught here.”

“Yeah, yeah you’re probably right,” Ben sighed theatrically. “But I think we might be okay for another minute or so.”

“I completely agree,” Beatrice grinned, and they fell together all over again.

Hero knocked sharply on the door, making them both jump.

“Extensive list, remember!” She said, cracking the door open to say her piece before shutting it firmly again.

“She’s right,” Beatrice sighed. “Pedro didn’t do any of the things I asked him to do for the picnic, and I don’t feel comfortable giving him one of my lists again if he’s just going to lose it.”

“Definitely,” Benedick nodded. “Go on?”

“The point is, do you think you could double check to make sure we have enough blankets? It’s not a public summer picnic without plenty of picnic  _blankets_. So many people do not think about that.”

“Well, you’re not so many people,” Benedick said. “I can check on those blankets, no problem.”

“Thank you, you’re amazing,” Beatrice beamed. “I mean, you know, in a strictly business like way.”

“Of course!” Ben said, a look of mock innocence on his face. “I’ll see you at noon to talk to the newspaper reporter about the picnic?”

“Oh, don’t worry, I’ll definitely be seeing you two later,” Beatrice said, wandering over towards the door.

“Are you talking about me and the reporter? Or were you talking about my butt again?”

“What do you think?”

 

***

 

“Hey there Meg,” Beatrice said, approaching her desk. “Do you have a second?”

“Sure,” Meg said, blowing on her nails. “But make it quick, I need to go check on Caleb.”

“Who’s Caleb?” Hero asked, catching up with Beatrice and giving Meg a look of confusion.

“Just a guy I met last night at the bar,” Meg explained. “He and I are going out later.”

“Wait, where is he?” Beatrice looked around the room, like he might pop out of the ceiling tiles.

“Oh, in my car,” Meg said, standing up and pulling her long hair back into a ponytail.

“Your car? How long has he been there?” Beatrice asked, indignantly.

“I don’t know, since this morning?” Meg shrugged.

“In your car?” Hero demanded. “By himself?”

“I left the radio on!”

“Okay, we can make this quick, no problem,” Beatrice interrupted, giving Hero a  _leave it_  kind of look. “Meg, would you be kind enough to double check with these businesses to make sure they’re still providing food at the Summer Fun Times Public Picnic in two days?” She handed over a neatly scribbled list, which Meg examined.

“Looks like it’ll be on my way,” she said, folding it and dropping it into her purse. “I’ll report back.”

“Thank you so much Meg, you’re beautiful and irreplaceable,” Beatrice said, breathing a sigh of relief.

“Right back at you, Duke,” Meg grinned.

 

***

 

“Beatrice Duke! Hero Duke!  _Literally_ , my two favorite Dukes  _in the entire world._ ” 

“Leo Duke!” Beatrice said, pointing at him with enthusiasm. “Just the cousin we were looking for.”

“Why are you wearing running clothes?” Hero asked, taking in his bright blue outfit.

“I was just on my way back from my second morning office jog!” He explained, happily. “Every two hours I take a run around the entire building to keep my leg muscles working at their highest performance rate.”

“Right,” Beatrice said. “Makes sense.”

“Actually, it’s quite unconventional,” Leo said, jogging lightly in place as he spoke. “Some people argue that exercising so often could  _literally_  cause the entire body to shut down.”  

“Oh my god, Leo!” Hero said, looking horrified. “Why do you keep doing it?”

“Because I’m not a normal human male,” Leo said, sincerely. “My body is fully capable of pushing itself to the limits of human endurance.”

“Well before you push yourself too far, would you mind doing me a little favor?” Beatrice asked, holding out a piece of paper to him. “Some local musicians were going to play at the picnic in a few days, can you double check their reservations, and if we have their payments all lined up?”

“Beatrice, there is  _literally_  nothing I would rather do!” he beamed, tucking the paper into a tiny pocket in his running shorts. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, i’ve got another lap to run. Great to see you!” And with that, he took off down the hallway.

“He is definitely intense,” Beatrice said, shaking her head amusedly.

“That brother of mine,” Hero shrugged. “Gotta love him.”

 

***

 

“Cora?” Beatrice said, peeking into her office through the window in the door. “I can see you. I know you’re in there.”

“I know, Beatrice,” Cora said, sitting stoically at her desk. “I’m busy.”

“You’re not even moving! Come on, open the door.” Beatrice shook the handle violently, which made Cora frown.

“Fine,” she sighed, clicking the small button on her desk that unlocked the door. Beatrice and Hero pushed into the room, Beatrice in the lead with a piece of paper already in her hand.

“Why did you feel the need to disturb me when I _explicitly_  asked not to be bothered?” Cora asked, crossing her arms. “Where’s Balthazar when I need him?”

“I think he and Pedro went out with John.” Hero said, glancing at Balthy’s empty desk.

“The creepy one who stands there and stares?” Cora asked, raising an eyebrow.

“It’s not important,” Beatrice said, setting the sheet of paper on Cora’s desk and pushing it gently towards her. “What  _is_  important is throwing the best, most memorable and life fulfilling summer picnic that has ever happened in this town. Or anywhere.”

“Ah, yes,” Cora said, pulling the paper towards her. “And you want me to do  _more_  work on this government funded project?”

“Just a tiny bit!” Beatrice insisted. “Not even that much, you’ll like it.” Cora snorted.

“The day I enjoy government work will be the day I’m basically dead. I will not be tied up and force fed the government’s lies like so many others.”

All the same, her curiosity was peaked.

Slowly, Cora pulled the paper closer towards her, examining Beatrice’s impeccable handwriting.

“One of the guys we hired to work on the stage quit,” Beatrice explained. “We need someone to oversee construction, test the stage’s structural integrity, all that jazz.”

Cora seemed to consider the proposition.

“Now that,” she said, finally, “is a damn good idea.”

 

***

 

“Do I have to come in with you?” Hero asked, pulling a face.

“No, you don’t have do to anything you don’t want to,” Beatrice said firmly. “…Except for this.”

“Beatrice-“

“I’m sorry!” she protested. “I need you to explain the duties to him, I don’t want to get anything wrong.”

“Fine,” Hero sighed. “But if he gets creepy, I’m leaving.”

“Fair enough,” Beatrice said, pushing open the door.

“No no no, Jean-Ralphio, you don’t understand,” Claudio said, holding the phone between his cheek and his shoulder and leaning way back in his chair. “This idea is the best one I’ve had in a very long time. It’s gonna blow the Snakehole Lounge out of the  _water_ , are you ready for this? We make a line of high end desk lamps,” he paused for effect, a smile spreading across his face, “fill em all up with tiny jellyfish.”

“Claudio,” Beatrice said, waving her hand in front of his face. “I need to talk to you.”

“Beatrice, hold up, I’m on a business call,” Claudio said, holding out a finger. “What? Noooo, not you Jean-Ralphio. Are you crying? Dude, stop that, I wasn’t talking to you.”

“Claudio,” Hero said, pushing her way out from behind Beatrice. “We need your attention for like two seconds, okay?”

“Hero, hey there boo,” Claudio smiled, winking at her. “Long time no see.”

“Oh, just put the phone down and talk to us, would you?”

“Anything for you, sugarpluuuum,” he said, wiggling his eyebrows. “Jean-Ralphio, I’m gonna have to call you back. Two seconds, don’t worry.” He hung up the phone, leaning forward in his chair and straightening his jacket. “So, what can I do for you ladies?”

“I just need you to do one tiny extra thing for the summer picnic,” Beatrice explained.

“What? Noooooo!” Claudio whined, indignantly. “I thought I finished everything for that, I was gonna leave early and buy some dope tiny jellyfish.”

“Okay, first of all, that’s an awful idea,” Beatrice said, unclipping a scrap of paper from her clipboard. “But this won’t take long, Claudio. Hero can explain.” 

“It’s just a run to the hospital to make sure there will be first responders at the park,” Hero said. “Lots of kids, hot day, somebody might scrape their knee or die of heat stroke, you know.”

“So, you want me to go round up some sexy doctors for the picnic?” Claudio asked, slyly, “Because we’ve already got one standing right here.”

“Alright, reel it in, dude,” Beatrice said, narrowing her eyes.

“Here’s what you need to know,” Hero said, handing him the piece of paper from Beatrice. “These are the names of the people who said they’d volunteer, just call them all and make sure they’ll be there. If they give you any trouble, for whatever reason, tell them you know me.”

“Can I tell them we’re dating?” Claudio asked.

“No.”

“Friends with bennies?”

“ _No._ ”

“Okay, hear me out,” Claudio said, “you and I are forbidden lovers-“

“That’s it,” Hero turned and walked toward the door. “You’re being creepy. We’ve reached that point!”

Beatrice watched her go, biting her lip. Then she turned back to Claudio.

“You’re still gonna do it, right?” she asked. “Because I can make her come back here, she just needs a little time-“

“Nah, I’ll do it, Beatrice,” Claudio said, picking up the phone again. “Hey, while you’re up, would you mind grabbing me a fruit tomato from the fridge?”

“A  _what_?”

“That’s just what I call mangos,” Claudio said, winking at her. “Cool, right?”

Beatrice was about to respond when her phone buzzed, and the Lord of the Rings theme song began to play. She scrambled for her pocket, finally drawing out her ringing cell phone.

“Hello?” she said, excitedly. “Ben, you there?”

“Yeah, _I’m_  here,” he said, “where are you?”

“What are you talking about? I’m in the office.”

“Yeah. It’s 12:14.”

Beatrice glanced up at a clock, her stomach dropping as she double checked the time.

“Crap on a spatula,” she shouted, making Claudio jump. “The interview!”

 

***

 

“Okay, how’s this for a headline?” Beatrice said, enthusiastically. “‘ _Summer Lovin’, Picnic’s a Blast_.’”

“Great,” Ursula said, smiling hesitantly. “But maybe-“

“I’ve got more!” Beatrice interrupted, flicking through notes on her clipboard. “I like this one, what about ‘ _You Can’t Pick Your Friends, But You Can Pick Your Picnic: Summer Fun Times Picnic is the Place to Be.’_ ”

“Again, it’s a little long,” Ursula explained. “And I mainly just came to talk to you about the _details_ of the picnic.”

“But you got that down, right?” Beatrice asked, trying to peek over Ursula’s notes. “Do you want me to say something into your recorder? Because I will.”

“Let’s just do the questions for now,” Ursula said, giving Ben a look. He shrugged, smiling over at Beatrice.

“Okay, so you two worked together on the Harvest Festival, and now you’re both involved with this picnic,” Ursula said, holding the recorder up to her face. “Are you just a good team, or is there something else going on here?”

Beatrice and Ben both stiffened.

“What?” Beatrice said, “are you trying to… no. No, no no no no, oh my god.”

“Beatrice and I are just friends,” Ben said, giving her a look. “I mean, we’re great friends, but that’s all it is.”

“I can say that I personally find his butt to be unattractive,” Beatrice said, before suddenly regretting it. “Don’t quote me on that. That’s off the record.”

“I mean, we work well together, but she’s really not my type,” Ben continued, anxiously. “She doesn’t even like flamingos.”

“That’s true,” Beatrice added. “They’re awful birds. Just because they keep attacking the raccoons that try and wander onto our public parks does not make them great animals.”

“So the point is, Bea and I are just friends. Friends who work together,” Ben concluded, folding his arms.

Ursula just stared at them.

 

***

 

“I think we covered our butts pretty well in there,” Beatrice said, when they were back in her office. “I mean, I suppose it could’ve gone better, but once we got her talking about the picnic everything went much more smoothly.”

“You don’t think she suspected anything?” Ben said, looking nervous. “She did kind of spring that on us, we weren’t prepared to defend ourselves.”

“You need to stop worrying your beautiful head,” Beatrice said, reaching forward and lacing her fingers through his. “We’ve still got the bubble, remember?”

“I feel like the bubble has been compromised,” he said, smiling slightly and squeezing her hand.

“Well, maybe a little,” Beatrice admitted. “But not entirely. Not yet.”

“Okay,” Ben said, unable to keep the grin from spreading across his face. “Let’s enjoy the bubble then.”

“Would it be a bad idea to make out with you right now?”

“That sounds amazing. Meet you in that big closet on the second floor?”

“Hell yes.”


	31. Do You See That Llama?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For flamingmangoes, who requested a fic in which Ben says "Do you see that llama?"

“Benedick!” Beatrice called as Ben walked into their flat, shutting the door behind him. “Please tell me that’s you.”

“Yeah, it’s definitely me,” he grinned, pulling off his jacket and throwing it onto one of the hooks by the door.

“Thank god you’re home. Can you come here please? Please? I’ve got a present for you.”

“A present?” Ben said, walking down the hall and pushing open the door. “It wouldn’t happen to be a small baby, would it?”

“Daddy!” Imogen squealed, hopping off Beatrice’s lap and toddling over to Benedick on her chubby baby legs.

“Hello you!” Benedick said, grabbing her around the waist and lifting her high in the air. “Have you been driving your mum insane?” Imogen just giggled, swatting playfully at his face.

“It’s been one of those days,” Beatrice sighed, walking over to kiss him. “You know the kind. How was Balthy’s concert?”

“It was great! Loud, actually. You would’ve liked it,” he poked Imogen in the belly. “You could scream all you wanted.”

“She is the world’s loudest two year old,” Beatrice yawned, rubbing her eyes. “She had a yelling match with the neighbor’s dog today.”

“Again?”

“Doggy go BARK,” Imogen shouted gleefully, making both her parents cringe.

“He sure does, Ginny,” Benedick said, shaking his head and readjusting her in his arms. Beatrice just groaned, walking over to the couch they’d stuck in the corner of the room and collapsing onto it.

“Can you just… just get her to sleep? Somehow? In any way you possibly can?” Beatrice asked, her voice muffled by a pillow.

“Absolutely,” Benedick said, sitting down on the edge of the couch with Imogen on his lap and rubbing Beatrice’s back gently. “Did you read to her yet?”

“Nope,” Beatrice mumbled. “I had to wash her off because she fell in mud, and then she refused to put  _any_ clothes on, and things sort of spiraled downwards from there.”

“Oh god, I did  _not_  mean to leave you by yourself on a crazy Ginny day,” Benedick said, looking horrified. “That was a dick move on my part.”

“No it’s okay! I did not feel like going out today. And watch the language,” Beatrice jerked her head in Imogen’s direction.

“Right, sorry, that was a  _shit_  move on my part,” Ben corrected. Beatrice laughed, pushing him with her foot.

“You joke, but it’s going to be all your fault when she starts school and we get concerned calls from her teachers.

“Oh come on, you’ll be fine, won’t you Ginny?” he asked, booping her on the nose.  “You know when to reel it in, right?”

“Daddybook?” Imogen giggled, looking up at him hopefully.

“Right!” Benedick said, grabbing Imogen by the ankles and spinning her upside down. “You still need a story, don’t you?” Imogen shrieked, laughing and flailing her arms around to try and lift herself back up.

“The point is not to make her  _more_  excitable, Ben,” Beatrice groaned, grabbing a pillow and cramming it over her ears.

“Point taken, he said, pulling his daughter back up and walking over to the bookcase. “You want to grab a book Ginny?”

She considered the books, a look of deep concentration on her tiny face. Finally, she pointed sharply towards a well worn one sitting on the top shelf.

“Manmals!” She cried happily. Bea and Ben both sighed.

“Okay you, Manmals it is,” Benedick said, grabbing  _How Many Animals in the Boat?_ , by far the most boring book they had received when Imogen was first born. A million other picture books, at least  _ten_  involving flamingos, and somehow Ginny always managed to chose the same one. Beatrice swore she would throw it away at least once a week, but they both new the repercussions of that would be far worse than just powering through the monotony.

“You should know I have several questions about this book, Ginny,” Benedick said, settling back down on the couch with Imogen in his lap. Beatrice sat up, snuggling closer to the both of them and laying her head on Ben’s shoulder.

“For example, do you see that llama?” Ben continued, pointing to a small illustration. “What business does that llama have on a boat?”

Imogen just stared at him blankly, but Beatrice laughed, tucking her legs up under her and scooting closer to both of them. Benedick grinned, taking one of his arms from around Imogen and putting it around Bea.

“How long until we can read her Harry Potter again?” He asked, as Imogen grabbed the front cover and opened it impatiently.

“Oh, way too long.”


	32. Genie Au!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the-novel-life-of-a-dollar, who requested a Beadick genie AU!

“BEHOLD!” A voice rang out from the enormous cloud of pink smoke that was swirling through the room. “THE ANSWER TO ALL YOUR WILDEST DREAMS.” 

“What the _fuck_?” Beatrice coughed, waving her hand in front of her face in an attempt to clear the smoke, nearly dropping the old lamp she was holding. “Who’s there? Pedro, if you’re messing with me I swear to god…” 

“Not Pedro, whoever _that_ is,” the voice said, “I’m somebody infinitely more impressive!” And as though someone had turned on an enormous vacuum cleaner, the fog disappeared with a dramatic puff.

There was a boy standing in Beatrice’s room. He looked completely ordinary, if a bit frazzled, except for the massive gold cuffs around his wrists and ankles. 

Beatrice dropped the lamp.

It hit the ground with a metallic thud, rolling away from her until the boy stopped it gently under his foot. 

“Ah, home sweet home,” he said, grimacing at the golden lamp. “So, I’m going to assume you’ve got three wishes?”

“I’m sorry,” Beatrice said, still staring at him like she thought she might’ve gone insane. “Who are you, and what are you doing here?” 

“Not the brightest, are you?” the boy sighed, rolling his eyes. “Figures, the first person to rub my lamp in a hundred BILLION years, and it’s someone who’s probably never so much as touched _Aladdin_.”

“Are you… can… ARE YOU TRYING TO TELL ME,” Beatrice sputtered, “THAT YOU’RE SOME KIND OF… some kind of GENIE?” The boy grinned, curtsying dramatically. 

“Benedick Hobbes, at your service!” He said, wiggling his eyebrows. “Actually, I’m quite literally at your service. Genie rules, and all that.” Beatrice just shook her head.“This cannot be happening,” she mumbled. “You are not real, I just picked up an old lamp in the attic and if was… I don’t know. Stuffed with drugs.” 

“I’m hurt, miss whatever-your-name-is,” Benedick said, crossing his arms. “I just appeared out of a lamp, promising you three wishes, and you don’t believe me? You need _more_ proof?”

“I would love some,” Beatrice frowned, crossing her arms right back at him. “And you should know, I’ve _totally_ seen Aladdin.”

“So, go on then,” Benedick smirked. “Make a wish!”

Beatrice opened her mouth, then closed it again. She bit her lip, the weight of the question settling into the pit of her stomach. 

“I… I don’t know,” she said finally. “That’s a really big- but this is _ridiculous_.” She reached forward and grabbed Benedick by the arm.

“Hey!” he protested, but Beatrice was stronger, pulling him roughly towards the attic stairs. “Wait, we can talk about this!” 

“No we absolutely cannot,” Beatrice said, tugging him away from anything he could grab onto. “You are going to leave my house, weirdo.”

“Is that a request?” He asked, grinning back at her. 

“YES,” she shouted exasperatedly, “Get OUT of here!” 

Benedick winked, and he was gone. 

Beatrice tumbled backwards, narrowly avoiding the attic stairs as her counterweight evaporated into thin air. She tripped over an old broom, loosing her balance and falling uncontrollably towards the dusty wooden floor. Then her head hit something hard, and everything went dark. 

***

Beatrice awoke to someone lifting her up, a hand positioned just behind her head to keep it steady. 

“Oh, thank god you’re not dead,” Benedick said, gently pulling her upright. “I have no idea what would happen to me if you didn’t complete your three wishes, honestly.”

“What… how did you do that?” Beatrice mumbled, “and I can sit up on my own, thanks.” She pushed his hands away, only to have the world go blurry and her entire body tip backwards.

“Woah, watch out!” Benedick said, snapping his fingers. A bean bag chair appeared beneath Beatrice, catching her before she could smack her skull on the floor again. She lay there on her back, too shocked to move.

“I know it’s a lot to take in,” Benedick said, kneeling down beside her, “but I can try to make it as simple as possible.” When she didn’t respond, he took a deep breath and sat down fully, crossing his legs and settling in next to the bean bag chair. “You want to hear the wish rules?” Beatrice nodded her head, mechanically.

“Well, this will probably sound pretty standard to you, but here we go. Rule number one,” Benedick held out a finger, dramatically. “No wishing for more wishes. Don’t be that person.” Beatrice snorted, her stunned demeanor finally breaking. Benedick grinned, looking down at her hopefully. 

“Rule number two,” he continued, “I can’t kill anybody for you.”

“What?” Beatrice asked, “why not?”

“The fact that you are questioning this disturbs me.”

“What about ripping out somebody’s heart, could you do that for me?”

“Pretty sure that counts as killing them,” Benedick laughed. 

“Whatever,” Beatrice said, settling back into her bean bag chair. “What’s the third rule?”

“I can’t make anyone fall in love,” Benedick said, rolling his eyes. “Although I have no idea why you would want to.” Beatrice looked up at him sharply.

“What do you have against relationships, Mr. Stuck-In-A-Bottle-For-A-Hundred-Billion-Years? Did you have a genie girlfriend who broke your heart?”

“Ha ha, very funny,” Benedick said, scowling. “Look over there, would you?” 

He pointed to the lamp, lying abandoned on the ground.

“I’ve been stuck in that thing for a hundred years, and it’s completely turned me off to relationships. If I could leave, I would’ve done it years ago. But, you know.” He held up his shackled wrists, as if to drive home the point. “If I can’t stand to be with an object forever, how could I even _begin_ to tackle a human being?” 

“Wait…” Beatrice said, furrowing her brow. “Did you just say a _hundred_ years? What happened to a hundred BILLION years?” She imitated his voice, laughing at her own impression.

“Oh, well, I may have been exaggerating a _bit_ ,” Benedick said, looking down at the floor agitatedly. “A HUNDRED years isn’t really that impressive for a genie.”

“Don’t worry,” Beatrice said, pushing herself up on her elbows and smiling at him. “I won’t tell anyone.” 

“That’s generous of you,” he grinned back. “Thanks very much… oh my god. Do I still not know your name?” Confusion and surprise was written all over his face, and it was such a ridiculous expression that it made Beatrice want to laugh. 

And though she wouldn’t admit it, she felt a little bright pang of something warm in the pit of her stomach when she looked at him.

“It’s Beatrice,” she said. “Beatrice Duke.” 

“A pleasure to meet you, Beatrice Duke,” Benedick said, rolling up his sleeves. “Let’s get started.” 


	33. Genie Au! (Part 2)

“So,” Benedick said, propping his feet up on Beatrice’s dashboard. “You’re being awfully mysterious as you drive me to this unknown location for your first wish.”

“We’re settling a score,” Beatrice said, a sinister smirk on her face. “Getting revenge.”

“You did hear me say I can’t kill anyone, right? Because I want to make that extremely clear.”

“Oh come on,” Beatrice rolled her eyes. “I might be angry, but I’m not a murderer.”

She turned sharply, pulling into the parking lot of a football pitch and turning off the car. She settled back in her seat, kicking her feet up on the dash as well and crossing her arms.

“Soooo, let me guess,” Benedick said, eyeing the grassy playing field. “You want me to make you a star football player. Wait, no, your school only has a boys team, so you want me to turn you into a guy so you can play.” He turned to stare her straight in the eye, his face dead serious. “Beatrice, if this is a  _She’s the Man_ situation, you need to tell me right now.“

“I don’t need your help to be good at football, dickface,” Beatrice scoffed.

“ _Dickface_?” Benedick laughed. “I have to admit, that’s a new one.”

“Nobody in a hundred years has called you ‘dickface’? I find that hard to believe.”

“It’s been quite uneventful, honestly,” he said, his smile fading slightly. “Nothing much to do in that lamp, you know?”

Beatrice turned to look at him, curiosity in her eyes.

“So wait, how long has it been since you’ve granted wishes?” She asked, sitting up and uncrossing her arms. “How did you even get in my attic in the first place?”

“I have no idea,” Benedick sighed. “After someone uses all three of their wishes, the lamp just disappears and shows up again wherever it feels like it.”

“So, the last person who had the lamp…” Beatrice ventured. Benedick’s face darkened.

“Let’s just say they weren’t exactly my favorite,” he said, staring at his wrist cuffs. “It doesn’t matter anyway, it was thirty years ago.”

“ _Thirty years?_ ” Beatrice’s mouth hung open. “You’ve been by yourself in the lamp for that long?”

“No need to remind me, love,” Benedick said, picking forlornly at a hole in his jeans.

“There has to be something in there, right? Books, video games, stuff like that? I mean, clearly you’ve seen  _She’s the Man._ ”

“Yeah, something like that,” Benedick muttered. “But everything gets boring eventually if you’re by yourself, you know?”

He glanced over at Beatrice. She looked indignant.

“That’s not fair,” she said, crossing her arms again. “You shouldn’t have to be stuck in there by yourself. You shouldn’t have to be stuck in there  _at all_.”

“Ah, but what would the world do without genies?” Benedick sighed dramatically.

“Clearly we’ve gotten on just fine without you,” Beatrice said, “unless you’re about to tell me that our world is swarming with genies who go around fixing world hunger and stuff like that.”

“Nah, not as far as I know,” Benedick yawned. “There are probably only a few left, and most of them are millions of years old. Hardly anybody actually  _becomes_  one anymore.”

Beatrice jerked her head around, staring at him with wide eyes. She opened her mouth to speak, confusion written across her face, when suddenly something else caught her attention.

Her gaze turned icy. She glared out the passenger side window at something just behind Benedick.

“What?” he asked, turning his head to see what she was staring at. There were a few players walking onto the pitch, laughing and throwing a ball back and forth. One in particular stood away from the rest, tying his shoe, and it was he that Beatrice had her eyes on.

“Let me remind you about rule number three,” Benedick said, raising an eyebrow. “There’s no way for me to make  _anyone_ fall in love with you, no matter how good they are at football.”

The look Beatrice gave him could’ve shattered glass.

“I would rather marry a  _dog_  than have him fall in love with me,” she spat. “His name’s Claudio, and he can go straight to hell.”

“Again,” Benedick said, impatiently, “that’s basically the same thing as killing him. Which I can’t do.”

“Oh my god, not everything I ask for is a wish!” Beatrice said, giving Ben a playful shove. “Are you just that eager to be done with me?”

“Not at all,” Benedick grinned. “So, what’s Mr. Football’s deal?”

“He’s a liar,” Beatrice said, coolly. “He used to date my cousin, but he got really jealous and thought she was cheating on him. So then on her birthday, her _sixteenth_  birthday, he called her out in front of everyone and said she was sleeping around. Called her a  _slut_.”

Benedick wrinkled his nose, looking back at Claudio with distaste.

“I hope you’ve got something really good planned for this wish, Beatrice,” he said. “But if not, I’m starting to get a few ideas myself.”

He turned back to Beatrice, only to find that she was staring at him in surprise.

“So you believe me?” she asked, hesitantly.

“Why wouldn’t I believe you?”

“It’s just…” Beatrice put her hands on the side of her face, rubbing her temples. “It’s just that you’ve never even  _met_  my cousin, Hero, and you believe that I’m telling the truth. Claudio knew her really well, but he still thinks she was cheating on him. Everyone does. After  _three months_.”

She looked so miserable, it made Benedick’s heart do somersaults in his chest. Before he could totally process what he was doing, he reached over and put a hand on her shoulder.

“I believe you,” he said, smiling softly at her. “And I am so ready to grant whatever wish you could possibly think up to get revenge on this asshole.”

Beatrice looked over at him, her eyes darting down the the hand on her shoulder and back up again. Then, slowly, she smiled back.

“Okay. I’ve got my first wish,” she said. “You’re ready?”

“Completely.”

“Right, here we go.” Beatrice took a deep breath, nodding her head like she was confirming a decision. “I wish that Claudio could never tell a lie again.”

Benedick snapped his fingers.

Out the window, Beatrice saw Claudio double over, his hands on his stomach like he was about to throw up. One of the other players ran over to him, looking concerned.

“Roll down the window,” Beatrice said, poking Benedick in the shoulder.

“How?”

“That thing!”

“This one?”

“Oh my god.” She reached over him, pushing the button to make the window roll down, and suddenly Claudio’s conversation was audible.

“You okay bro?” One of the other players said, looking concerned.

“Yeah, my stomach just really hurt there for a second,” Claudio said, trying to stand up straight again. “Maybe it’s because I ate chocolate for breakfast again.”

His eyes widened in alarm, and his mouth hung open like he couldn’t quite understand how those words had escaped. His friend just laughed, patting him on the back.

“I’m sure you’ll be fine. You want to take defense, I’ll take offense?”

“Nah bro, you’re shit at offense,” Claudio said, the words slipping out of his mouth completely without his control. His friend turned, glaring at him.

“Well, fine. YOU take offense if you’re so fucking brilliant.” He said, walking away in a huff.

Beatrice reached back over and rolled the window up, and the two of them burst out laughing the second it was closed.

“Did you see his FACE?” Beatrice cried, gasping for air between giggles. “He ate chocolate for breakfast  _again_. AGAIN!”

“You… you are a  _genius_ , Beatrice Duke!” Benedick laughed, barely able to get a word out. “Remind me to stay on your good side!”

“Are you kidding? You just helped me get revenge on my least favorite person in the entire world!” Beatrice beamed at him. “You are  _forever_  on my good side.”

“Good to know,” Benedick grinned back.

“I’M SORRY,” Claudio’s voice boomed from the field. “I’M NOT THAT GOOD AT FOOTBALL!”

The two of them lost it all over again, their fingertips and shoulders brushing as they leaned into each other, laughter filling the car.

 


	34. Genie Au! (Part 3)

“We should wait for Hero to get home for the next wish,” Beatrice said, tossing her bag on the bed and flopping down next to it. Benedick started to follow her, but he hesitated, opting instead for one of the chairs next to her desk.

“Wow,” he said, glancing around her room at all the posters, “there are a lot of British actors on your walls.”

“Yeah, well, I sort of have a thing for-“ Beatrice broke off, going a little red. “Um, actors.”

“Right,” Benedick smirked. 

“ANYWAY,” she said quickly, rearranging the pillows on her bed. “About my second wish.”

“Yeah, you said it would be something to do with your cousin, right? Hero?”

“Yes,” Beatrice nodded. “The last few months have been… well,  _bad_  doesn’t seem like a strong enough word.”

“I get the picture,” Benedick nodded. “So, you want to help her get better?”

“Uh huh,” Beatrice smiled. “Figured I’d use my last wish to make her life easier. God knows she’s had a rough time of it.”

“Um, I think you’ve miscounted there Beatrice,” Ben said, bemusedly. “That Claudio thing was only one wish, you’ve got  _two_  left.”

“Well,  _technically_ ,” Beatrice said, shifting awkwardly on her bed. “But, you know, I thought I’d save the last one.”

“What are you talking about?” Ben asked, knitting his brow. “Save it for what?”

“Oh, I don’t know, maybe to  _free you_ , stupid,” Beatrice explained, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Benedick’s face went white. He stared at her, expressionless except for something dark in his eyes.

“Don’t say that,” he mumbled.

“What?” Beatrice shot him a look. “Why not?”

“Just… just don’t.” He sunk down in his chair, avoiding her gaze.

“Ben, I’m not letting this go,” Beatrice stood up, walking over to him and crossing her arms. “You can’t possibly WANT to be stuck in that lamp for another hundred years!”

“You’re right,” he said, his eyes flicking up to meet hers. “So you really don’t need to get my hopes up, okay?”

Beatrice’s mouth fell open, uncomprehendingly.

“I’m sorry, do you think I’m bullshitting you about this? After everything you’ve done for me, you think I would screw you over?”

There was something in her voice Ben had never heard before, something more than anger. She sounded hurt.

“No,” he said, quickly. “It’s not you Bea, it’s… it’s complicated.”

“Well please, explain it to me,” she said, sitting down in the chair next to his and staring at him, stubbornly.

“Trust me, you don’t want to know about my long and tragic backstory,” Ben sighed. “Bit depressing really.”

Bea just scooted her chair closer to his, raising her eyebrows.

“There is no getting out of this, Ben. I’m all-fucking-ears.”

That made Ben smile, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“Okay, well if you’re  _dying_  to hear it, I feel like there’s not much I can do to stop you,” Ben said. Beatrice shook her head.

“Right, well about a hundred years ago, give or take, I became a genie,” he began.

“I’m still curious about that, by the way,” Beatrice interrupted. “You said people don’t usually become genies anymore.”

“Yeeeah, well they don’t,” he said, reluctantly. “Most people are smart enough to avoid it.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“Basically, it means I got tricked,” Benedick frowned. “The genie who was in that lamp before me? Not the nicest.”

“Wait, you mean he fooled you into taking his place?” Beatrice asked, her eyes wide. “What a dick!”

“You don’t have to tell me,” Ben grumbled. “He was looking for any excuse to get out of there, any tiny loophole, and I gave him one.”

Ben looked over at Beatrice, maybe hoping she would let it go, but her eyes were inquisitive as ever. He took a deep breath.

“I asked him to make people respect me,” he said finally. “I felt like none of my friends really cared about me, you know? Like if I disappeared they would just go on with their lives, no problem.” He said all of this quickly, like he’d never had the chance to say it to anyone before. “I hated that, Beatrice. I hated feeling like I needed them more than they needed me.”

Beatrice felt something twist in her stomach. For half a second her arm twitched, like she might’ve reached over and taken his hand, but she stopped herself.

“Anyway,” Benedick shrugged, rubbing one of his gold cuffs with his thumb, “That happened. He made me into something people would respect, a genie, and he disappeared off to wherever genies go when they’re freed.”

“What?” Beatrice said, taken aback. “What do you mean ‘wherever they go,’ don’t you just take human form?”

“Uhhh, see that’s the other thing,” Benedick said. “Not always. Genies only become human when they’re freed if they have something to tie them to earth.”

“You’ve lost me.”

“Okay, well, think of it this way,” Benedick leaned back in his chair, thinking hard. “Imagine that when I became a genie, I essentially died.”

“That’s lovely. Definitely something I wanted to think about today.”

“Just hear me out. So everything that makes me, me, is trapped in that bottle. If I get freed, my soul will just fly away to god knows where, unless I have something to tie it down.”

“What kind of something?” Beatrice pressed, but Benedick looked sullen again.

“It doesn’t matter Bea, really. It’s no use.”

“Oh come on, we can figure this out!” Beatrice said. “I promise we will find a way to free you.”

Ben just looked up at her, sadly.

“That’s exactly what she said,” he muttered.

Beatrice stared at him in confusion for a moment, until something slipped back into her memory.

“You mean… are you talking about the last person who used the lamp?” She ventured. “Thirty years ago?” Benedick looked down at his wrists miserably. Then, slowly, he nodded.

“She was going to free me,” he said, softly. “She promised me that would be her final wish, and I believed her. I thought…” he broke off, taking a deep breath. “I thought she might’ve been the thing to keep me grounded, but I was wrong.”

Beatrice’s arm moved without prompting, and before she knew what she was doing she had laced her fingers through his.

“I’m not giving up on you,” she said, a ferocity in her voice. “I don’t give up on people,  _ever_.”

Benedick stared at their intertwined hands, the cold metal of his wrist cuff bumping up against the softness of her skin. Then, gently, he squeezed her hand.

Their eyes locked.

“Beatrice?” Someone called from the first floor of the house, slamming a door and breaking through the tension of their gaze. “Are you home?”

“Hero,” Beatrice whispered, dropping Ben’s hand. “I forgot she was… oh my god we need to hide you.”

“Hide me, what-“ Benedick began, but Beatrice was already pulling him up from the chair.

“I’m upstairs, Hero!” she called, pushing Ben towards her closet. “In my room!”

“You are not seriously going to hide me in here,” Benedick groaned, moving hangers to the side so as not to get hit in the face by one of her sweaters.

“I definitely am,” she said, putting her hand on the closet door and biting her lip, anxiously. They could both hear footsteps on the stairs. “Ugh, I still don’t know how to phrase my wish!”

“I think I might,” Benedick said, nudging some shoes to the side with his foot so he had more space to stand. “Honestly, you should just wish for her to be happy.” Beatrice blinked.

“Just like that?” She asked. “Can it be so simple?”

“I don’t see why not.” Benedick shrugged. “Long term, it’s probably the best thing you could wish for her.”

Beatrice gave him a look he couldn’t quite decipher. She opened her mouth to speak, but just then there was a knock on the door.

“Shit,” she muttered. “One second!” Before Benedick could react, Beatrice leaned forward and kissed him quickly on the cheek. “Thank you,” she whispered, her bright blue eyes staring into his, before shutting the closet door and leaving him in the dark.

Benedick could feel his heart beating in his chest, but it had nothing to do with the adrenaline rush that came with being hidden in a closet.  _Don’t be stupid,_  he thought.  _You’ve been here before, remember how well that turned out?_

But had it really felt like this last time? The girl thirty years ago had never sounded like Bea, so full of conviction and ferocity and sweetness. Benedick reached up to his face, his fingers brushing the place where she’d kissed him.

_You’ve known her for what, half a day?_ He thought, gloomily.  _This is stupid. You’re stupid, Ben._

But it was so easy to be around her, to talk to her, to let her laugh fill the space in his chest that had felt empty for so long. So yeah, she was the first girl he’d talked to in thirty years, but she was more than that. She was  _amazing_.

“…things can’t be bad for too much longer Hero, I know it,” Beatrice said, bringing Ben out of his reverie. He shook himself back to attention, listening closely for Bea’s wish.

“You don’t know that Bea,” a girl’s voice, Hero, said.

“I do, Hero,” Beatrice said, kindly, raising her voice a little. “Above everything else, I just wish for you to be happy.”

Benedick snapped his fingers.

 

***

 

When Beatrice came to get him out of the closet, she was smiling brightly.

“It worked!” She said. “At least, I think it did.”

“What happened? He asked, trying not to get distracted by the way her hair caught the light.

“Well, after I made the wish she got smily all of a sudden. Not too much, but overall she got a lot more hopeful about the situation. Also, I heard that Claudio’s been going around saying rude things about _everybody_ ,” she said, barely containing a giggle. “After all that, people might start questioning the things he said about Hero.”

“Yeah, probably,” Benedick grinned, getting a dreamy look in his eye. “I would’ve loved to follow him around all day, honestly. You think we could attach a video camera to him without him noticing?”

“I’ll look into it,” Beatrice smiled. “But for now, we’ve got bigger things to focus on.

“You don’t mean-“

“Oh, I definitely do,” Beatrice said, cutting him off. “I’m freeing you, Benedick Hobbes, and there’s nothing you can do about it.”

Ben gazed at her, unable to stop a smile from spreading across his face.

_You’re an idiot,_  came a thought somewhere from the reasonable part of his brain.  _Don’t you ever learn?_

But Benedick wasn’t listening.


	35. Genie Au! (Part 4)

Benedick had been staying at Beatrice’s house for a week, and still they were no closer to finding a way to free him safely. 

It was a miracle nobody had found out about him besides Beatrice, but they’d been lucky. Hero’s older brother Leo didn’t live with them anymore, he’d moved to Australia to coach football right after Claudio accused Hero of cheating. 

Hero, for her part, had developed a much brighter outlook on life. Ever since people started questioning Claudio’s words, she’d been issued too many apologies to count. A few friends who hadn’t seen her since the incident reached out, wanting to know if she was okay, and she had responded enthusiastically. She’d told Beatrice that she was ‘tired of hiding,’ so she’d gone to Wellington with her friends for the entire week. 

That left Beatrice and Benedick plenty of time to bum around the house together. Alone. 

Beatrice was feverishly typing away on her laptop when Ben walked in the room. She had ten tabs open, including the Wikipedia article for “Jinn,” a list of myths involving genies, and _Aladdin_ on Netflix, just to make sure they’d covered all their bases. 

“Any luck?” He asked, setting a cup of tea in front of her on the kitchen table.

“Not really,” she grimaced as he sat down opposite her, his own mug of tea in his hands. “You are one bizarre genie.” 

“I feel like I’m just sort of a bizarre person in general,” he joked, though there was something odd in his voice that Bea couldn’t quite place.

“Fair enough,” she smiled, her breath catching in her throat a little as their eyes met. 

A week shouldn’t be long enough to really like someone, that was what she kept telling herself. You were supposed to get crushes in a week, fleeting feelings that would be gone in seven days and replaced by something different. So why was it that every time their hands brushed, every time she caught him looking at her, it made her heart swell in her chest?

Nobody could deny that they had everything in common. She still didn’t quite understand how the whole “pop culture awareness” thing worked in his lamp, but they definitely liked all the same things. They’d talked about Game of Thrones for three hours the other day, making sandwiches and tossing bits of lettuce at each other when they disagreed. 

She liked his puffy dark hair, and his grey blue eyes. She liked his laugh, ridiculous and enthusiastic and completely unique. More than anything else, she just liked being with him, talking and talking until they were both too tired to go on. It felt important. It felt different. And Beatrice didn’t know what to do about it. 

She took her tea mug in her hands, sipping it thoughtfully. If she was going to solve this problem, she had to go at it from a different angle. What was it Ben had said the other day? She closed her eyes, trying to remember. _“I thought she might’ve been the one to keep me grounded.”_ That was it, wasn’t it? He was talking about the connection he’d had with the other girl, or thought he’d had.

The connection…

Beatrice’s eyes opened wide. She turned to Ben, an idea half formed in her mind, when she saw his face and stopped cold. 

He had his arms crossed, leaning back in his chair and looking up at the ceiling like he wished it would drop down on him. 

“Hey,” Bea said, setting her mug down. “Are you okay?”

“I…” Ben shrugged, taking a deep breath. “I think you should just make that last wish.” 

“WHAT?” Beatrice gaped at him. If her tea had still been in her hand, she would’ve dropped it. “Don’t start on this with me again Benedick Hobbes, it will not go well for you.”

“I’m serious,” he said, still avoiding her gaze. “You’re spending too much time on this, on _me_.”

“I’m trying to get you out of that stupid lamp!” Beatrice yelled, standing up and pointing at the golden vessel sitting on the mantelpiece. “Isn’t that what you want?” 

“What I want is for you to be HAPPY, okay?” Benedick shouted back, and Beatrice lost whatever words had been building up in her mind. Benedick took a deep breath, standing up to face her. “I’m not really that great of a guy, okay? I don’t have anything to offer as a human, ask anyone who used to know me.”

“Granting wishes? That’s something I’m good at,” Benedick continued. “Probably the thing I’m _best_ at, honestly. So instead of wasting your time on me, you should do something for yourself.”

Beatrice could only stare. He looked expectantly at her, like he was waiting for a rebuttal, but she couldn’t speak. His face fell, just slightly, but a split second later it was impossible to tell. 

“So,” he said, taking a deep breath and trying to smile, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Make that last wish.” 

Beatrice stared at him, her eyes moving from his face down to the cuffs around his wrists and ankles. It would be so easy to wish it, to free him from a life of solitude inside the stupid lamp, but then she might never see him again. Was it selfish to want that?  To want his companionship more than his freedom? 

She stared into his eyes, blue and waiting and sad. She had to tell him. Had to say something. If there was a chance she might not see him again, it really was now or never.

Beatrice took a step forward, then another, until her face was inches away from Benedick’s.

“Maybe,” she said, softly, “maybe I don’t have one.” 

“Come on, Bea,” he said, and the use of her nickname sent goosebumps down her spine. “Choose one thing you want, anything. Anything in the entire world.”

Beatrice thought about it for a moment, considering her options. 

Then she reached up and put a hand on Benedick’s cheek, pulling him down towards her and kissing him. _Finally_ kissing him. 

It was as though they had been made to fit together like a puzzle, their noses and cheeks and lips falling into place effortlessly. Ben seemed dazed at first, but soon his hands moved to wrap around Beatrice’s waist, pulling her close to him and sinking deeper into the kiss. 

They both stood there a long time, savoring the moment and each other, and everything that might not be able to last. 

When Beatrice finally pulled back reluctantly, short of breath, she kept her eyes closed. 

Benedick opened his, though. He gazed down at her, bringing a hand up to her cheek and resting his forehead on hers. 

“I love you, Beatrice,” he said softly, a hint of sadness in his voice. “I _love_ you.”

A smile crept its way across Bea’s face, and she opened her eyes to meet his. 

“And I thought you said I couldn’t make anyone fall in love with me,” she whispered.

Benedick chuckled, pulling her even closer to him and wishing he never had to let go. “Clearly, I was not expecting you to find this loophole.” 

“Well, I’ve always been good at creative problem solving, Beatrice whispered. “Which is why, for my third wish-“

“Bea, don’t.”

“No,” Beatrice said, stubbornly. “It’s going to work, I know it will.” 

“But what if… what if this isn’t enough?” He said, panic in his eyes. “I would rather stay in that lamp for an eternity than never see you again.”

“Oh Ben, don’t be stupid,” Beatrice scoffed. “I’ll get old, I’ll die eventually, and then where will you be? Stuck serving people for the rest of your life, and I’m not letting that happen.” She took a deep breath, moving her hands down from around his neck and locking his fingers with hers. “Benedick Hobbes…”

“Beatrice…” 

“I wish for you to be free.”

Benedick didn’t even have to snap his fingers this time, Beatrice felt the rush of magic flow through her body. There was a split second when the two of them stood there together, hardly daring to breathe. 

And then Benedick crumpled to the floor. 

 

 

***

 

 

Ben felt his head spinning, he was so tired. He tried to blink, to open his eyes, but every part of his body felt light and uncontrollable. 

_I’m free,_ he thought, miserably. Free, but still alone. 

_“Benedick”_ a voice said, and immediately Ben felt like someone had dropped a brick on his chest. _“Ben, please, stay with me.”_

_Beatrice,_ he thought, his mind racing. _I have to get back. Have to be with her._ Just hearing her voice made his heart ache, she sounded so sad. He couldn’t leave her like that, he _couldn’t_.

_“Benedick,”_ her voice called again. _“I love you, stupid.”_

And just like that, Benedick began to fall. Where everything had been light and airy, his whole body now felt like it was made of lead. Alive. Grounded.

_Bea, I’m coming,_ he thought, wishing he could just open his eyes and see her. _I’m not leaving you behind._

 

*** 

 

Benedick awoke to the feeling of arms around him, his head resting in someone else’s lap. He could hear shaky breathing, punctuated by the occasional sniff. A hand brushed the hair away from his forehead. 

_Beatrice._

Benedick’s eyes opened, and Beatrice came into full view. She had her eyes shut tight, her hair falling in curtains around her face and her hand resting on his cheek. 

“Hey,” he whispered. Beatrice gasped, her eyes shooting open. “I feel like we’ve been here before. Weren’t you the one unconscious?”

“ _Ben,_ ” Beatrice breathed, her voice watery and disbelieving as her face broke into an enormous smile. “Oh my _god_.”

She leaned down, kissing him so fiercely it was like the wind had been knocked out of him. He lifted his arms up to hold her, his entire heart repeating her name. As he did, he suddenly realized how light his wrists felt.

“Beatrice,” Benedick gasped, pulling back from the kiss. “The cuffs…” 

“What?” Beatrice asked, still beaming at him. She followed his gaze to his wrists, which were noticeably bare, and there was a glint of understanding in her eyes. 

She took his hand in hers, lifting it up and gently kissing the place where his shackles had been. 

“You’re free,” she said, taking a deep breath. “You’re free and you’re here, and everything is going to be fine.”

“You were right,” Benedick said, sitting up and brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “You did it. You grounded me.” 

“That’s the cheesiest thing I’ve ever heard,” she said, rolling her eyes but grinning all the same.

“I’m sorry, what was that you said earlier? Some line about ‘not thinking I could make people fall in love with you?’”

“Moment of weakness,” Beatrice shrugged, blushing slightly. “Plus, it was too good a line to pass up.”

“Way too good a line,” Benedick agreed.

They stared at each other, beaming, each trying to comprehend everything that had just happened. 

“I feel like there’s probably some stuff we should sort out, right?” Benedick asked, reaching over and taking her hand. “Like, where I’m going to live?” 

“Uh huh.”

“And I should probably buy some more clothes.”

“Definitely.” 

“I don’t have any sort of identification. I mean, I feel like my birth certificate would be a little dated at this point anyway,” Benedick rambled.

“We’ll figure it out.”

“But there’s also-“

“Benedick?” Beatrice asked, squeezing his hand and smiling at him mischievously.

“Yeah?”

“Shut up.” 


	36. I'll Dance With You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For anon, who requested "our friends grouped up for prom but we’re the only two without a date lets hang out."   
> Just FYI, BillieShears and I wrote this together!

Beatrice was on her third cup of punch, glaring around the dance floor with distaste. Hero stood in the middle of the crowd somewhere, dancing her little heart out with Claudio, and who  _knew_  where Meg had gone off to.

Those traitors.

As if her friends abandoning her wasn’t bad enough, Bea’s least favorite person in the world had chosen that moment to approach the table where she was sitting.

“Beatrice,” Ben said shortly, reaching for a cup and pouring himself some punch. “Didn’t think you’d be here.”

“Aww, what? Did nobody want to dance with you?” Beatrice asked. “Shocking.”

“For your information, there are plenty of people who’d  _love_  to dance with me,” he informed, dropping into the seat beside her, “I just don’t feel like it.”

“Because you’re terrible at it,” she said flatly.

“ _Because_ I rolled my ankle this morning and I don’t want to make it worse before the game this weekend.” Bea rolled her eyes.

“How convenient,” she muttered.

“Well, what’s  _your_ excuse?” Benedick asked, leaning back in his chair and sipping his punch.

“Haven’t you heard? I hate people,” she said. “That’s why I was sitting at this table.  _Alone._ ”

“And whose fault is that?”

“It was on purpose, dickface. Dancing is awful and boring.”

“Then why’d you come?”

“I told Hero I would,” Beatrice complained, crossing her arms. “It was a moment of weakness. Meg witnessed it, so I couldn’t back out. Plus, Leo said he’d cancel Netflix if I didn’t get out of the house.”

“Ha,” Ben gave a dry laugh. “That’ll do it.” He glanced around, refilling his cup. “Where’s Pedro? I saw him hanging around you earlier - though why he’d want to subject himself to that, I don’t know.”

“Says the guy who is subjecting himself to me  _right now_ ,” she smirked.

“Well, that’s…” he began, flailing his arms aimlessly, “that’s  _only_ because Claudio ran off with what’s-her-name.”

“HERO,” Beatrice said, hotly. “My  _cousin_? Honestly, I can’t believe you don’t know her name by now. All those times…” but she trailed off, staring pointedly away from Benedick.

“Excuse me for not knowing the names of your extended family, Beatrice,” Ben said, seemingly oblivious to Bea’s frustration. “Some of us have our own lives to lead.”

“So then lead yours,” Beatrice snapped, grabbing her bag and standing up, “away from me.”

She headed to the far corner of the gym, leaning against the wall. Ben followed behind, and she couldn’t help but notice he was walking fine on his ankle.

“Seriously Bea, you can’t come to a dance and then  _not_ dance,” he insisted. “If Leo finds out, he’ll definitely cancel Netflix.”

“Dancing was never in the deal,” she huffed, “I was very specific with my wording.”

“I’ll tell you what,” Ben plowed on, ignoring her completely, “I’m in a generous mood tonight, so I’ll do you a favor.  _I’ll_ dance with you, just for one song. Of course, it’ll have to be a slow song, on account of my ankle-“

“Oh, right,” she smirked,” your fragile ankle.”

“But that’s to your benefit anyway. It’s impossible to screw up a slow dance.”

“Hard pass, thanks,” she made a face, “I’m all set.”

“Alright,” Benedick held up his hands in defeat. “I get it. It’s probably intimidating to think about dancing with a master like myself.”

Beatrice raised an eyebrow.

“Are you joking? Have you seen yourself dance?”

“I don’t have to see it to know I’m good. I  _feel_ it.”

“Oh my god,” Beatrice reached forward, grabbing his arm and pulling him roughly towards the edge of the dance floor. “I am 100% better than you at dancing and I will prove it.”

“Really?” Benedick smirked.

“Really,” Bea turned to face him, putting her hands stubbornly on his shoulders and staring him dead in the eyes. Ben let his hands fall to her waist, swaying along to the music with her.

“See?” She said, smugly, “It’s not like there’s anything to it, you just-“

“What are you, twelve?” Meg laughed, slipping through the sea of bodies and appearing at their side. “It’s a school dance, not a church picnic.” She put a hand on the small of Bea’s back and pushed her closer to Ben, causing her to bump against him abruptly.

“Just because you dance like you’re in the bedroom doesn’t mean we dance like little kids,” Bea grumbled, shooing her away.

“You’ll thank me later,” Meg said, waving at them over her shoulder before disappearing back into the crowd.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Benedick asked, wrinkling his nose.

“No idea,” Beatrice sighed, still staring after Meg. “So  _ridiculous_ , just waltzing in here trying to tell us we’re dancing wrong.”

“Yeah,” Ben agreed, “we were doing perfectly fine before she said anything.”

But neither of them made any effort to move apart.


	37. Band AU

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For deducingthechosenone74, who requested a Beadick band AU!

“You’re dating WHO?” Meg gasped, nearly dropping her saxophone. “Beatrice, babes, talk to me.”

“It is not that big of a deal,” Beatrice said, trying to brush her off, “honestly…” 

“You are blushing so much right now, don’t try to hide this,” Meg interrupted, doing a little happy dance where she stood. “I  _knew_  you two had something!”

“If you don’t stop that right now, I’m hitting you with these,” Beatrice held up her drum sticks. “Don’t think I won’t, I’ve done it before.” 

“Yeah, to your  _boyfriend_.” 

“I think it’s sweet that you two are together,” Ursula said, carefully unpacking her flute. “Breaking section barriers, and all that.” 

“Yasss, going for a trombone player!” Meg laughed. “You know what they say about trombone players…”

“That they’re basically trumpet players who don’t work as hard?” Beatrice guessed.

“Well excuse me, I didn’t know hitting something with a stick was all that difficult either, love,” came a voice from behind them.

Beatrice jumped, turning to see Benedick standing with a huge goofy grin on his face.

“What are you so cheerful about?” Bea asked, taking a few steps towards him. 

“You were talking about me,” he said, wiggling his eyebrows. 

“We were talking  _shit_  about you,” Beatrice corrected, unable to keep a smile off her face. 

“I’ll take what I can get,” he said, leaning forward to kiss her on the cheek before walking back towards the instrument lockers. 

“You’re  _so_  into him,” Meg grinned, studying Beatrice’s face.

“I will fight you,” Bea warned, thought she sounded a little distracted.

“I thought she might have had a thing for Pedro,” Meg whispered as Bea joined Ben at the lockers, taking his hand. 

“Really?” Ursula sounded truly surprised. “I’ve always thought Beatrice and Ben’s bickering was flirting. They talk about each other _all the time_.”

“Hmm, I guess you’re right,” Meg said, linking her arm with Ursula’s and leading her towards the band room. “Besides, Pedro’s definitely got a thing for Balthy.”

“I agree.”

“Ten dollars says Pedro makes the first move?”

“I know better than to bet against you.” 


	38. Time Capsule AU

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For skypirategirl, who requested "I was digging in my garden and I found your time capsule with a bunch of weird stuff in it, sorry I went through it" AU.

When Benedick opened his front door, he was not expecting to see an anxious looking woman standing there with an old box in her hands. 

“Can I help you?” he asked warily, keeping his hand on the door handle. She didn’t look particularly suspicious, but what was with the box? 

“Maybe,” she said, looking him up and down. “Are you, um… Benedick?” 

“Yeah,” he said. The woman furrowed her brow.

“That’s really your name, then?  _Benedick_?” 

“Sorry, do I know you? Or do you just enjoy walking up to people’s doors and making fun of their names.”

“Neither,” she said, holding out the box. “I think I found something of yours.” 

Benedick leaned away from it, staring at the woman in confusion. 

“Okay, I don’t know what’s in that gross box you’ve got, but it’s  _definitely_  not mine.”

“Are you Benedick Hobbes?” she asked. 

“Yeah, but-”

“Look.”

She flipped the box around, revealing faded words written in black sharpie. 

**_TIME CAPSULE_ **

**_PROPERTY OF BENEDICK HOBBES_ **

He squinted at it for ten entire seconds before a wave of memories came rushing back to him.

“WOW,” he said, reaching out to take the box. “Where did you find this?”

“Probably where you buried it,” she smirked. 

“This is insane,” Benedick marveled. “Do you want to come in? Uh…”

“Beatrice,” she smiled. “You promise you’re not an ax murderer?” 

“I ran over a bird yesterday with my car, does that count?” 

“Nope,” she said, taking a step into his apartment. 

“This is actually ridiculous though,” Ben said, walking over to the kitchen table and pushing aside some papers to make way for the box. “I buried this when I was fourteen, how long ago was that? Ten years?” 

“And you’re still into Lord of the Rings,” Beatrice observed, pointing to some magnets on Ben’s fridge. “Awesome.” 

“What do you mean,  _still_  into Lord of the Rings?” Benedick asked, turning to look at her. 

Beatrice’s expression shifted immediately, her eyes darting back and forth like she was looking for a way out. 

“Nothing. What?” she said, trying to smile. “Oh wow, is it noon already? I’d better-”

“Did you open it?” Benedick asked, laughing. “How  _dare_ you?” 

“I didn’t know it was yours!” She said, defensively. “My cousin’s house was getting remodeled, and the landscapers found it in the garden. I thought maybe it was old, so I started going through it. But then all the things in there seemed really recent, so…”

“I don’t even remember what I put in here,” he said, flipping the lid open. “Nothing embarrassing, right?” 

“Depends on your definition,” Beatrice laughed. “A lot of Doctor Who stuff, a flamingo beanie baby, the list goes on.”

“So, pretty embarrassing.” 

“Not really,” Beatrice shrugged. “I am really sorry I invaded your privacy though.”

“Well hey, you’ve moved up to invading my home now, so clearly it’s something you’re good at,” Benedick joked. 

“Excuse you, you invited me in!” 

“Well I wouldn’t have if you hadn’t found my box. You’re tricky, you’ve been thinking ahead.”

“And  _you_  are ridiculous,” Beatrice said, rolling her eyes. 

But when she looked back at him, smiling slightly, Benedick felt a tug in the pit of his stomach. 

 

Weeks later, curled up together on Ben’s sofa, Benedick asked her a question that had been on his mind for a long time. 

“What was your first hint that you liked me?” 

Beatrice glanced up at him, a glint in her eyes. 

“Remember how there was a mango in your time capsule?”

Benedick looked at her, dumbfounded. 

“That disgusting, rotten hull of a mango that remained after ten years underground in a box?”

“Yep,” Beatrice said, snuggling closer to him. “I saw that in the box and thought, ‘wow, what idiot tried to put a fruit in a time capsule?’”

“Really feeling the love over here, Bea.” 

“I’m not done!” She protested. “When I actually got to your house and you opened the door, all I could think was, ‘this guy put a mango in a time capsule. This is that guy.’ But then- I don’t know. Suddenly it seemed less stupid and more…”

“Attractive?” Benedick offered. “Devilishly handsome? Flaming hot?” 

“No loser,” she laughed. “Hopeful.” 

“Really?” 

“Really,” Beatrice said. “Plus, it made me laugh. You’re really good at that.” 

“Good to know,” he grinned, leaning in to kiss her. 


	39. Lovesick

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For anon, who requested Bea and Ben being cute in front of the gang and getting teased!

“Ah _choo_!”

“Are you okay?” Benedick asked, looking over the lunch table at Beatrice in amusement. “That’s your third sneeze in about thirty seconds.”

“I’m  _fine_ ,” Beatrice said, sniffing through a stuffy nose. “I’m just… I’ve got allergies.”

“Really?” Meg smirked. “Because it sounds to me like you might be sick, sweetheart.”

“Nope. Not happening.” Beatrice mumbled, taking an angry bite out of her turkey sandwich. “I have absolutely no time for that.”

“Bea, if you’re sick you should go home,” Ben insisted, scooting closer to her and digging some kleenex out of his bag, which she took gratefully.

“You know I can’t do that! I was up until 2 studying for the physics test today, I  _can’t_  miss it.”

“That’s probably why you’re sick, Bea,” Ursula observed. “You haven’t been getting a lot of sleep lately, none of us have.”

“Well, that’s because I’ve been up late tex-” she broke off, biting her lip. “Studying.”

The rest of the gang exchanged glances. Meg looked pointedly at Ben, who had suddenly become very interested in his lunch.

“Bea,” Hero said, ignoring the others, “you’re sick.”

“ _Lovesick_ , maybe,” Pedro smirked. Beatrice’s nostrils flared.

“You should know that I… ah… ah _choo_!” she sneezed, covering her mouth with her elbow just in time.

“What was that, Beatrice?” Meg grinned, poking her shoulder. “It sounded like you were about to deny your strong, womanly feelings for Benedick.” Beatrice groaned, setting her head down on the table with a defeated  _thunk_.

“Don’t listen to them, love,” Ben said, putting a hand on her back and massaging between her shoulder blades. “We both know this sneezing wasn’t caused by your undeniable lovesickness.”

“Ben, I swear to  _god_ ,” she said, her voice muffled. “I am way too tired for this.”

“What’ll make you feel better?” He asked, cheerily. “Tea? A mango? Floyd?

“Yes, no, and  _no_ ,” Beatrice said, turning her head on its side and smiling at him. “You don’t even have any of those things with you.”

“Yeah, but I’ve got a car and an  _incredibly_  boring class next period.”

“Ah, of course,” she smiled wider. “I was worried for a second that you had Floyd in your backpack again.”

“Unfortunately, he takes up a little too much space,” Benedick lamented, putting his hand over his heart. “Sometimes the world is just too small for such a noble and majestic bird.”

“You’re so ridiculous.”

Beatrice leaned up to kiss him, but caught herself.

“Right. I’m sick,” she muttered. “Sorry Ben, you’ll just have to-”

But Benedick cut her off, tilting his head down and kissing her anyway.

“ _So_  stupid,” Beatrice said, as they broke apart. “Now you’re gonna be sick too, genius.”

“Worth it,” Benedick beamed.

“ _Guys_ ,” Pedro said, exasperatedly. “Can you… can you not?”

“Oh shut up, Pedro,” Meg flicked a grape at him. “It’s _true love_.”

“It’s _truly_  gross.”

“Hey,” Benedick shrugged, snuggling closer to Beatrice. “Don’t forget, this is all your fault.”

“Yeah,” Bea agreed. “Get wrecked, Mr. Love Go… ah… ah _choo_!” 


	40. Red Rover!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For pineapplebutt506, who requested Beadick playing red rover!

Beatrice’s Primary school teacher normally had them play boring, non violent games during the day, but the  _substitute_  teacher didn’t know that. When she asked if anyone had any ideas for a group activity, Bea’s hand was the first in the air.

“REDROVER,” she shouted, before her name had even been called. The substitute looked confused.

“What was that, dear?”

“RED. ROVER.” Beatrice repeated, impatiently. “It’s a game.” A few eyes in the classroom lit up, but none more than those of Benedick Hobbes, who had been occupying himself with tying his classmate’s shoelaces together until he heard Beatrice’s suggestion.

“Well, I’m not sure I know that one, uh…” the substitute consulted her clipboard. “Beatrice?”

“I can teach it!” Bea and Ben both said at the same time. Beatrice whipped around, her shoulders hunching with a tiny fury.

“ _I_ suggested it, so  _I_ get to teach it!” she said, firmly.

“But I’m better at it than you are!” Ben protested. “I’m faster!”

The entire class went still. A few overdramatic kids gasped.

Before Beatrice could unleash six year old hell on Benedick, the substitute stepped in.

“You can both teach it!” She said, looking between the two students, alarmed. “You can work _together._ ”

Beatrice looked even more offended, if that were possible.

The class moved outside to a patch of open grass by the school building and split into two groups. Each group formed a line by linking hands, and they faced each other on either side of a long stretch of grass. Beatrice and Benedick both claimed a line, claiming theirs to be far superior in every way.

“Here’s how it works,” Beatrice said, her small voice still demanding the class’ attention. “One side picks a person from the other side, like Pedro, and yells-“

“ _Red Rover, Red Rover, send Pedro right over!”_ Benedick cut in, trampling her words.

“You  _jerk_!” Beatrice frowned, pushing him hard in the back so that he nearly tumbled face first to the ground. “I wanted to explain it, that’s the best part!”

“So Pedro would run across,” Benedick continued, undeterred, “and he’d try to break through the linked hands of anybody in the line.”

“If he breaks through, he gets to take someone from that line to join  _his_  line. If he doesn’t break through, he has to join the  _enemy_ line.”

“But, won’t that hurt?” Hero asked, tentatively. Beatrice scoffed.

“ _No_ ,” she insisted. “Don’t be silly.”

“Oh, it hurts,” Benedick interrupted, a slightly crazed look on his face. “Like getting your arm cut right off.”

“It does  _not.”_

“Does too!”

“DOES NOT!”

“BEATRICE! BENEDICK!” The substitute teacher’s voice cut straight through the argument as she bustled over to separate them. “Either you two can learn to behave, or you won’t be allowed to play the game. Are we clear?”

Bea eyed Benedick warily. After a moment of tense staring, she let out a long sigh.

“Let’s just play,” she said, walking over to her group and finding a place to join the line. “We’re going to crush them,” she whispered to Meg, who was standing right by her.

“Yeah we are,” Meg smirked, her eyes darting through the opposing team’s line to pick out the weak.

“Ben’s team goes first,” the teacher announced, and Bea’s head shot up.

“BUT-“

“No buts, I chose at random,” she said quickly, holding up her clipboard. “Wait your turn, Beatrice."

Bea settled back in a huff, squeezing Meg’s hand a little too tightly and trying to ignore the look of jubilation on Benedick’s face.

His group had barely had a moment to deliberate when they broke apart, some of them looking nervous.

“Ready?” Ben shouted, grinning from ear to ear. “Here we go… RED ROVER RED ROVER, SEND BEATRICE RIGHT OVER!”

Beatrice had been expecting it, she was off before they’d even finished the sentence. She’d been doing  a quick assessment while she stood in line, and the clear weak spot was between Balthazar and Robbie. She made for it, ready to break through Ben’s stupid line, when she saw the look on his face.

It was so self satisfied, so absolutely arrogant, Beatrice couldn’t stand it. It was as though her vision narrowed, and a million tiny crosshairs appeared on Ben’s head.

Her feet changed course.

Before Benedick even knew what hit him, Beatrice did.

She crashed into him with an enormous force, sending them both sprawling onto the ground.

“That’s… that’s not how you play!” Benedick gasped, his eyes wide in surprise.

“That’s how  _I_  play. Who’s faster now?” Bea pushed herself up, smiling down at her handiwork. “Don’t mess with me, Ben.”

“YOU TWO. TO THE PRINCIPAL.”

They both winced. Their parents were not going to be happy when they found out; three principal visits in a week had to be some sort of record.


	41. Twins!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For anon, who requested Bea and Ben finding out they're going to have twins.

Beatrice stared at the doctor, stone-faced, her mouth hanging open just slightly as the world spun around her. Every single word she’d ever learned failed her, replaced by a slow, building panic. 

“Sorry, could you… could you repeat that?” Benedick asked, his voice cracking as Beatrice held his hand in a vice grip.

“Yes,” their doctor smiled, pointing at the ultrasound. “You see right here? One baby-“ she pointed again, at a slightly different shape, “two babies.” 

“Twins?” Ben squeaked. “ _Twins?_ ”

“Twins,” the doctor repeated. “Now, I know it sounds daunting, but-“ 

“Daunting?” Beatrice interrupted, speaking for the first time since their doctor broke the news. “It sounds im-fucking-possible.” 

“Beatrice…” Ben began, but now that she was talking Bea was on a roll.

“We already have a two year old! You’re telling me our kids are going to outnumber us? What are we supposed to do, grow an extra pair of arms?”

“Beatrice,” Ben repeated, reaching over and turning her gaze to meet his. “ _Twins._ ”

“Why do you look so happy? I’m panicked out of my mind, aren’t you?”

“They’re gonna be so adorable,” he said, a faraway look in his eyes as he stared at the ultrasound. “ _Two_ tiny little babies? I might die.”

“I’m the one who has to push them out!” Beatrice retorted. “I might ACTUALLY die!”

“That’s definitely unlikely,” the doctor said, checking her clipboard with one hand. Bea was a little peeved she was being so calm about this, but she’d been their doctor when Imogen was born too. Dr. Julie had spent too much time with her and Ben to be surprised by their bickering anymore.

She lifted the ultrasound wand from Bea’s stomach, turning off the machine and helping Beatrice sit up fully. She then handed them some pamphlets and talked for along time about steps they needed to take. Beatrice knew that Ben would be listening with rapt attention, so she felt justified in zoning out and gazing at the ultrasound pictures she’d been given in awe. 

Two. Babies. 

As they left the doctor’s office and walked out to their car, Ben couldn’t stop talking. 

“This is insanity, Bea,” he said, practically skipping. “We’re so good at having kids, we made two. TWO of them! We’re gonna have to buy more stuff obviously, we can’t just use all Ginny’s old things like we planned. God, Beatrice,” he paused as they reached the car, resting his arms on the top of it and gazing into the distance, “I can’t believe this, we have to tell everyone we know. You know what? Let’s also tell everyone we _don’t_ know. We should probably buy an ad somewhere. No no, a _billboard_.”

She let him ramble on, buckling herself into the car and slumping down in her seat as Ben turned the car toward’s Hero’s house. It was honestly nice to hear his voice, to have its cadence fill the space around her like a security blanket. He probably knew what he was doing too, the loser. They’d been together long enough for him to know that his voice could calm her down.

When the finally parked in front of Hero’s house, Benedick stopped Bea before she could get out of the car. 

“Do you want me to tell her?” He asked, bouncing in his seat a little. “Or did you want to…“ 

Beatrice breathed in deeply, sighing it out in a huff. 

“You should tell her,” she said finally, shooting him a small smile. “It’ll probably sound less panicked coming from you. Plus, there’s a tiny munchkin in there I’m going to be very busy cuddling.” 

“Sounds like a plan,” Ben grinned, leaning forward and kissing her quickly. “ _Twins,_ Bea,” he whispered, like he would explode if he didn’t keep mentioning it. “You think they’re gonna solve mysteries together?” 

“Oh yeah, like the mystery of where their parent’s sanity went.” 

“They’re gonna solve mysteries,” Ben repeated, pressing his lips to her forehead before exiting the car. 

They walked up to Hero’s porch together, and the second Benedick rang the front doorbell they could hear scurrying feet headed towards them. Then someone opened the door, and a tiny child came soaring out of the house towards Beatrice. 

“Mumma!” 

“Hello Ginny!” she beamed, lifting her daughter high into the air before hugging her close. “Ugh, I missed you so much.” 

“Baby?” Imogen asked, her face pressed up to Beatrice’s neck.

“Not quite yet, darling.” 

“Hi Hero!” Benedick said cheerily, pulling Bea’s cousin out onto the front porch and hugging her. “How was Ginny, well behaved?” 

“Oh, she was lovely as always!” Hero said, looking a bit confused by the hug. “What’s happened to you two, is everything okay?” 

“Everything’s _great._ Up there with the best days of my life. Not in the top three, obviously, but definitely in the top fifteen. No, make that the top ten. Hold on, I should check my list.” 

“Bea?” Hero asked, as Ben walked over and started rummaging through Beatrice’s purse. “What… what’s going on?”

“LIFE, Hero,” Benedick said, pulling a piece of paper out of Bea’s bag with a flourish and checking it briefly. “Oh man, today is for _sure_ in the top six.” 

“You know how we said we’d only have two kids?” Beatrice said dryly, as Ben ruffled Ginny’s hair with a smile. “Turns out the universe really, _really_ wanted us to have two kids.”

“So… you’re saying everything’s good?” Hero asked, looking hopelessly lost.

“ _Doubly_ good, Hero,” Ben smiled, clearly enjoying himself more than he had all week. “Two for the price of one, as they say. It’s like Fred-And-George good, except nobody dies. My enTWOsiasm about this pregnancy knows know bounds. If I could even begin TWO-“

“We’re having twins, Hero,” Beatrice deadpanned, setting Imogen comfortably on her hip. “God help us.” 

But even her most sarcastic eye roll couldn’t drown out the glee in Ben’s face, and she hated to admit that it was infectious.

_Twins._


	42. I Opened My Car Door Just as You Were Walking By and I'm So Sorry (Fritso)

_**BAM** _ **  
**

Freddie gasped, nearly spilling her coffee and dropping her cell phone onto her lap in shock. She’d been so busy talking to her mother about her new job, juggling her bags, running on four or five hours of sleep - she hadn’t been paying attention as she got out of her car.

And someone, she hadn’t seen who yet, but _someone_ had been hit full force with her car door.

“Oh my god,” Freddie whispered, horrified, dropping her coffee into the cup holder and grabbing her phone, “mum, I’m sorry, I have to go.” She hung up, tossing the phone back in the car as she jumped out onto the sidewalk.

The person she’d hit was curled up on the ground, clutching at his nose.

“Ohmygodiamsosorry,” she cried, scrambling down to join him on the pavement, putting a hand on his shoulder, “I didn’t see you, are you okay? Sorry, that was stupid, of _course_ you’re not okay. Are you bleeding?”

The man groaned, his eyes scrunched together as he attempted to sit up; one hand pulling off his glasses, the other still cupped around his nose.

“I’ve been better,” he tried to smile, shrugging despite everything, “you really…”

He opened his eyes, finally meeting her gaze, and the sentence died in his throat.

“Woah,” he breathed, his brown eyes fixed on hers. Freddie stared back, feeling a little shiver go through her spine. If she could forget the panic building in her, and the fact that his nose was clearly bleeding… he was _cute_.

Then his gaze moved downwards, pulling back his fingers to see they were streaked with blood. His eyes widened in horror, his hand shaking. “ _Woah_.”

“Careful!” she cried, scooping an arm under his shoulders as he began to fall backwards. She glanced up and down the street, looking for anyone who might be willing to help, but the sidewalk was barren. “Okay, I’m taking you to the hospital. Can you walk?”

The man looked like he was about to faint, blood dripping all down his face, but he nodded slightly, and she hoisted him onto his feet.

“I am so, _so_ sorry,” Freddie repeated as she led him over to her car, supporting most of his weight as he stumbled over his own feet, “I’ll make it up to you, I promise. What’s your name?”

“Kit,” he mumbled, his eyes tight shut again, wincing in pain, “it’s Kit.”

“I’m Freddie,” she responded, setting him down gently in the passenger seat, reaching into the glove compartment for tissues and handing him the whole box, “and I am _so_ sorry.”

—

 “They said he’ll be fine, mum,” Freddie sighed, leaning forward in the waiting room chair, her leg bouncing slightly up and down. “Yeah, it’s definitely broken … No, they haven’t told me yet, but it was pretty clear … I don’t think so … Obviously I want to help with the medical bills … Oh, mum that would be _great_ , thank you.”

One of the nurses appeared from a doorway, smiling when she caught sight of Freddie.

“Hey girlie,” she said, walking over to join her in the waiting room, “it’s been a long time since I’ve seen you around here.”

“Hi Carol,” Freddie smiled back, “just a second. Mum? I’ve gotta go. Love you.”

“You still dating that teacher?” Carol asked, as Freddie slipped the phone back in her pocket, “He was very cute.”

“Benedick and I were  _not_ dating,” she explained, for what felt like the millionth time, “he just got married last month, actually.”

“Oh! Well, good for him,” Carol smiled again, looking back at her clipboard, “anyway, I’m sure you’re anxious to hear about your friend.”

“Kit,” Freddie nodded, tapping her thumb against her knee, “we don’t actually know each other. I just hit him with my car.”

Carol glanced up from her notes in shock.

“…you _what_?”

“Door! My car door!” Freddie corrected quickly, realizing her mistake, “I did _not_ hit him with my moving car.”

“Good, that doesn’t sound like you!” Carol nodded, one hand still pressed to her heart, “either way, he should be fine.”

“Broken nose?” Freddie guessed, biting her lip.

“You got it,” Carol said, “lucky for the both of you, it was a pretty standard break. He’s having no trouble breathing, nothing seems dangerously out of place, all he needs are a few weeks of rest and his nose will be good as new.”

“Oh, thank god,” Freddie sighed with relief.

“Do you want to go back and see him?” Carol offered. “He’s all clear for visitors.”

“Yes, _please_ ,” She said, gratefully, standing up from her seat. Carol led her down a hallway and around a corner, rapping twice on one of the doors.

“Go on in, sweetie,” She said, patting Freddie’s cheek lightly before leaving. Freddie ran a hand through her hair and smoothed down her skirt, then nodded once to herself before entering the room.

Kit was sitting up in the hospital bed, flipping through magazine, an enormous bandage across his nose. When he heard Freddie enter he looked up, smiling and then wincing, brushing his fingers across the bridge of his nose.

“It’s not as bad as it looks,” he said, before she could ask, “kind of hurts to smile or laugh, though.”

“I’msosorry,” Freddie squeaked, her eyes fixed on his bandage, “I had a long meeting this morning, and I didn’t have time to get coffee until after, and I know that’s no excuse for not paying attention to my surroundings, and I’m sure it doesn’t make your nose feel better, but-”

“Hey, woah,” Kit interrupted, trying hard to hold back a smile, “Freddie, it’s really okay.”

“… _What_?” Freddie gaped at him, furrowing her eyebrows, “what are you talking about? Clearly it’s not fine!”

“It was an accident,” he shrugged, still so alarmingly calm that Freddie found herself wondering if he was on some very strong pain medication. “It’s not like I had anything else planned for today, you don’t have to worry about it.”

“But… but I…” she stammered, walking right up to his bed, “I _hit_ you with my _car_!”

“Your car _door_ ,” he corrected.

“Your nose is broken!”

“Could be worse.”

“Okay, what do they have you on?” Freddie crossed her arms, “because clearly your pain meds are clouding your judgement.”

“I’m serious,” Kit insisted, still infuriatingly mellow about the whole situation, “do you want to sit down?”

Freddie bit her lip, realizing for the first time that morning that her whole body was full of tension; her arms firmly crossed, her jaw clenched. Who was this guy, and why didn’t he resent her? Why wasn’t he upset, even a little bit? And why was he so _handsome_ , even with a bandage across his face?

Freddie sat down slowly, staring at her hands as she took a deep breath.

“You remembered my name,” she noted.

“Yeah, of course,” Kit said, “you told me in the car.”

“Right before you _passed out_ ,” she said, a grin spreading across her face before she could stop it, “I didn’t think you were paying attention.” He was making that face again, where he tried not to smile, his eyes darting down to her lips and back up again. Freddie pretended not to notice, but she felt her face start to flush. “You’re Kit, right?”

“You remembered!” he said jokingly, “well, _technically_ it’s Kitso, but either one works.”

“Kitso,” Freddie said, feeling the unfamiliar name pass through her lips, enjoying the way it bubbled over the roof of her mouth, “that’s very cool.”

“Thanks,” he said, the corners of his mouth twitching, “what’s Freddie short for?”

“Just Freddie,” she said, rolling her eyes with a small smile, “it’s my great grandma’s name too, and I think there’s another relative even farther back? I have no idea why, I always thought maybe she changed it so she could fight in the war or something.”

“Woah, are you serious?” Kit’s eyes lit up, “that’s badass.”

“I don’t know about that,” Freddie laughed, “She was definitely a badass, but between the two of us, you’re the one who’s sustained the most injuries.”

“I suppose that’s true,” Kit said, thoughtfully, “I’ve never passed out before, I didn’t know blood could make me all woozy like that.”

“Well in your defense, it probably hurt a lot,” she noted, “bodies are kinda fragile sometimes, something new happens and they just freak out.” She made a motion with her hands like an explosion, immediately feeling silly. “ _Not_ to say that your body is fragile, sorry, that’s not… fainting’s not uncommon, that’s what I wanted to say.”

She could tell he was staring at her, but she was afraid to look at his expression. She just knew she was fully blushing now, her own body’s dumb reaction to anything new.

“That’s good to know,” Kit said, and she glanced up to see that his eyes were smiling, “now all we have to worry about is whether or not I’ll faint when I get my medical bills.” Immediately, he looked like he regretted his words. “Sorry, I didn’t want you to worry about that. It’ll be fine, honestly.”

“No no!” Freddie jumped in, “oh god, Kit, please let me take care of that.”

“Freddie-”

“Non negotiable,” Freddie insisted, “I’m serious, my mother is one of the administrators here, she practically runs the place. I can pay for this whole thing, it’s my fault anyway.”

“I…” Kit looked torn, “I don’t want to ask you-”

“You don’t have to,” Freddie said, firmly, “I’m happy to do it, honestly.”

She watched his expression change, his mouth opening (she couldn’t help but notice how nice his teeth were. Was that weird to notice?) and his eyebrows furrowing (he had such lovely eyes) before something seemed to occur to him, and he nodded slowly.

“Okay,” he said, “on one condition.”

“Of course,” Freddie said, letting out the breath she’d been holding. Thank god that was over, she hated talking about money with anyone.

“Do you…” he began, then stopped, looking uncertain, “can I take you to dinner?”

Freddie could only assume she’d started hallucinating. The lack of sleep and coffee and stress of the morning had literally broken her brain, and cute guys had started asking her out for dinner.

“Are you serious?” She asked quietly, her eyes wide, “you’re not joking?”

“Not joking,” Kit said, searching her eyes, “one hundred percent serious.”

“You mean,” Freddie searched for words, her whole mind was buzzing, “are you talking about a ‘thank you for driving me to the hospital’ sort of friendly dinner, or do you mean… the other kind of ‘can I take you to dinner?’”

“The other kind,” he said, still looking like he couldn’t tell if she was nervous or uncomfortable, “unless you want it to be the first kind, in which case that’s totally fine, I don’t want to-”

“No!” Freddie said quickly, laughing gently at the absurdity of the situation, “no no no, I like the second option. I’m actually very interested in that option. Unless, I mean, unless _you_ don’t want to-”

“I asked you!” Kit laughed, immediately reaching a hand up to his nose, “oof, _ow_.”

“Are you okay?” Freddie giggled, she couldn’t stop herself, she felt so giddy.

“Oh, I’m definitely okay,” Kit said, trying and failing to hold back a smile as he stared over at her, “it’s more than worth it.”


End file.
